


Stars on the Water

by writingbygab



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe, Beach Town, But I'll work in other subplots, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, I love this story, Jersey Shore, Lifeguard, M/M, Mainly Marvin and Whizzer, and i hope you do too, best way to describe it i think lol, surfer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-06-14 02:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15378924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingbygab/pseuds/writingbygab
Summary: All of his life Marvin has lived in a place where most people vacation. Despite how good this may sound, he has despised every second of it as he longs for more than just tourist-filled beaches. That is until one day, when he saves the life of a pretentious surfer who unexpectedly lures him into something beyond what he has always known.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> AHHH my first chaptered thing! I'm so excited about this. I hope you enjoy :)

Sea Bright is a quaint beach town on the utmost northern part of the Jersey Shoreline that frequents and hosts many tourists all throughout the summer. They come to feel the warm sand beneath their toes and to splash and swim in the cold blue waves that continuously flow in and out of the shore. Then, after the sun sets and the stars come out, the huge ferry boat picks them all up at 8:45 pm (always on time, never late even by a second) to bring them across the bay to New York City where they dance, laugh, and party all night. 

 

When he was a kid, Marvin would run as fast as he possibly could - sometimes barefoot - from his bright blue two-bedroom house he and his parents shared, to the seaport the ferry took off from. It was about a mile on foot but he didn’t care. He passed by the crowded neighborhoods and seedy bars, passed the tourist shops that sell shells (yes, shells, even though there was a beach right across the street that you could find them, you know, for free.) He always made sure to give a quick wave when he passed by Mr. and Mrs. Finn’s house. They would be sitting on their front porch in their rocking chairs slowly swaying back and forth and breathing in the salt air, and they always were ready to wave back at Marvin. Sometimes when Marvin’s parents would get into a fight, he would go to their house and pretend he was actually their son - even though they were technically old enough to be his grandparents. They would welcome him with open arms and a glass of iced lemonade, which made Marvin feel like he was _home_. Finally, after dodging the drunk locals pouring out of bars and people jogging and biking at this hour to avoid the heat during the day, little 10-year-old Marvin would make it to the seaport, breathing heavily but eyes wide as he leaned against the fence that held him from falling into the bay. He would watch the multitude of people, all dressed up with big smiles plastered on their faces and drinks in their hands, pile onto the boat to bring them to the magical city that lit up like a big star across the sea. At the time, Marvin was never quite sure why he and his family lived so close but never visited the city. He would ask, but his mother was quick to shut him down, always saying the same thing, “Not everything that’s beautiful and shiny is a good thing, Marvin.” But Marvin couldn’t understand that, Marvin _didn’t want_ to understand that. Once the ferry door shut and started to steer away towards the skyline of the city, Marvin would lean down and pick up a handful of rocks beneath his bare feet. He studied each one carefully - the texture, the details, the coloring. Sometimes he would name them, sometimes he would number them, either way, it was important to remember exactly what they looked like. After his thorough examination, he would climb up on the railing of the fence and throw them into the tide below him. He would carefully watch as the sea swallowed them, the tide taking them on their own, brand new adventure; then, Marvin would lean down as close as he could through the bottom of the fence and whisper to the rocks taken captive by the sea, “Go and be free. I’ll see you when I make it across the sea.”

 

Marvin was about thirteen when he stopped his nightly trips to watch the ferry and whisper his promises to the body of water below him. It wasn’t because his interest withered - far from it actually - but because he started training nonstop to get the chance to work as a lifeguard at the tourist-filled beaches he wouldn’t dare step foot on for pleasure. He ran miles through the hills that bordered the island and swam too-many-laps-to-count at the local YMCA for hours, desperately trying to get in shape and build muscle for even the chance to be considered to enroll in the lifeguard-training program when he turned fifteen. Now don’t get him wrong, Marvin didn’t want to be a lifeguard because he loved the beach and loved to make sure the tourists were kept safe and in check. No. He wanted to be a lifeguard because it was the best paying job on the island. They got paid double, if not triple, what waiters or busboys were making, and Marvin needed to make as much money as possible, because Marvin needed to make it across the sea.

 

Marvin was about fourteen when he realized he was gay. One day, during his lap swim, he popped out of the water to be met with a blue-eyed, tan, curly-haired boy named Joshua leaning down and waiting for him. He laughed when Marvin flinched at the unexpected sight of someone staring him down and lent out his hand to introduce himself. As Marvin shook it he couldn’t help but stare at Joshua’s biceps, but he quickly assured himself it was just because he was jealous of them. They got to talking and Marvin found out that Joshua was a senior lifeguard, which meant it was his last year there before he went off to college. When he found out that Marvin was going to apply to the lifeguarding program Joshua was quick to tell him he had “potential” and offered to train him since he knew what they would be looking for. The compliment made Marvin’s cheeks flush and he quickly agreed to his offer. They ran through the woods that bordered the island on Mondays and Fridays, swam and did water aerobics on Wednesdays, did weight training on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays, and, to Marvin’s unfortunate dismay, ran for five miles on the beach on Saturdays. Although he complained at first, Marvin quickly became used to the constant workout routine. Plus, being out of his house and with Joshua was a not-so-terrible bonus. Marvin admired the way Joshua was so passionate about keeping people safe and making sure he was in the best shape to do just that. He gave his full attention to Joshua when he would give him tips about breathing techniques while swimming or the best way to save someone against a rip current. Whenever Joshua would take his shirt off, Marvin would feel the heat pool at the bottom of his stomach start to rise and he would quickly turn away, trying his best to keep his eyes forward and to not risk being guided into uncharted waters. From the weight training, Marvin’s arms began to broaden and his muscles began to look similar to Joshua’s arms, but for some reason he still stared at Joshua _hungrily_. It wasn’t until one of the last Saturday’s of summer that Marvin finally realized and accepted that he was attracted to his trainer. On this day, they had to do their beach run during the evening because Joshua unexpectedly got called in to work a morning shift. As they reached the five-mile marker, both of them plopped down in the sand, breathing heavily until they calmed down enough to synchronize their breaths with the ocean waves. They silently watched the tide push in and pull out, seemingly blending in with the cotton-candy sky above them accredited to the sunset. Marvin had realized how much he had grown to love running on the beach and how much he had grown to love the person who forced him – okay well, maybe not _forced_ – but heavily encouraged him to give it a try. Marvin looked over at Joshua, his curls blowing in the wind, his eyes glistening from the water reflection, his brow covered in sweat - and the feeling he had in his chest was the same feeling he felt from all those years of looking towards the city and _yearning_. Joshua looked over at Marvin, catching him staring. “What?” He said with a laugh. That beautiful laugh that pulled Marvin in like a tide, stripping him of all self-control yet allowing him to be free. Out of compulsion, Marvin leaned into Joshua’s lips and kissed him. Joshua did not return the kiss though, in fact, he pulled back, staring at Marvin with a mortified look on his face. And that’s when the tide let Marvin go, letting him out in the open to fend for himself, frantically splashing for someone, _something_ to help. “Dude, what are you doing?” Is all Joshua could say behind his terrified eyes and face as hard as stone. Marvin’s head started to spin and he felt like the tide had pulled him so far under that he could barely breathe, “I - I’m sorry.” Marvin finally said, his voice hoarse, scrambling to stand up from the grip of the sand. “I’m sorry.” He barely repeated before turning around and running as fast as could, tears streaming down his face and the sound of the ocean waves crashing becoming louder and louder that they started to hurt his eardrums. He made it back to his little blue house collapsing on his bed and suffocating his sobs into his pillow, as he swore he would never allow himself to be swallowed by the tide and like another boy again.

 

He never saw Joshua after that night, but a month later, on Marvin’s fifteenth birthday, Marvin received the letter saying he was accepted into the six-month lifeguard training program. His parents took the night off fighting and they all celebrated by going to Moby’s Soft Serve for ice cream on the boardwalk in the next town over. As they sat on the pier, Marvin heard a boat engine roar. He looked down at his watch - 8:45 p.m. Then he closed his eyes and kicked some rubble into the water below. As he took in the simple moment of the cold ice cream dripping down his hands and the salty breeze hitting his face, for the first time in a month, he smiled, knowing he’s one step closer to his real goal - making it across the sea.


	2. On Duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so since the first chapter is technically a prologue I figured I'd give you an actual chapter as well.

**Senior Life Guard**

_Marvin_

 

**On Duty**

 

Marvin quickly adjusts his sign hanging behind the tall lifeguard chair perched in the white sand in the midst of the tourists sunbathing, radios booming, children building sandcastles, and the sun blaring. As Marvin finishes applying his sunscreen for his shift, he puts on his sunglasses, hangs the mandatory yellow warning flag off of his chair, and climbs the large lifeguard stand to take his command for the day. Looking out on the sand at the rows and rows of people lined up from this view is always astonishing to him. There are people spread out as far as the eye could see, all living their own lives and using up their vacation time sitting on a hot beach, sweating, and probably getting sunburned. Marvin could never understand how this was enjoyable for people. The beach is simply _work_ for Marvin. He never comes here when he has days off or time to spare, oh god no. As soon as his shift ends, he leaves immediately, and sand that sticks to him gets thoroughly scrubbed off before it even has the chance to make it to his car. No. Marvin hates the beach. But he loves the bay. The bay is calming and the way it continuously fluctuates in the direction that the moon pulls it in makes it feel like it has purpose. The bay also hosts the beautiful and bright city that Marvin has been yearning for all of his life, and he is so _so_ close to achieving his goal of simply stepping foot in that wondrous star across the sea. Marvin closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath of the salty air – he pictures he’s at the bay, the tide high and flowing strong, the sound of the water moving against the rocks making his heart rate slow down more.. and more.... and more -

 

“HELP, HELP SOMEBODY HELP!”

 

Marvin quickly jolts up, his heart almost bursts out of his chest from the sudden scream of panic that is echoing from the shoreline.

 

“HELP HE’S STUCK!”

 

As his heart rate restores to a normal pulse and the shock wears off of him, Marvin grabs the torpedo buoy, jumps off the chair, and quickly runs down to the shoreline, his heart rate growing faster and faster. This had never happened before. He’s had kids drift off too far, a jellyfish sting every month or so, or little babies swallowing too much water and obsessed parents not leaving him alone for the rest of his shift asking over and over _“Are you sure they’re okay?” “What if they swallowed bacteria??” “Should I bring them to the hospital???”_

But he’s never heard a scream like this – one of ear-piercing panic.

 

A group of people are huddled around the shoreline, simply looking out into the distance at whatever is going down out in the unknown of the Atlantic. He scurries around and locates the brown-eyed, short, curly-haired boy who possesses the scream.

 

“What’s going on?” Marvin asks as calmly as he possibly can.

 

“MY FRIEND,” He replies not nearly as calm. “HE GOT STUCK IN THE RIP TIDE!”

 

_Shit._ Is the only thing Marvin can think when he looks ahead and sees the ocean was well indeed forming a hole out in the middle of its body ready to suck anything in that tries to escape.

 

Marvin gulps, tightens his grip on his buoy, and starts running straight towards the life-threatening commotion out in the wide-open body of water.

 

_Why did I sign up for this? Why did I sign up for this?_ Is all Marvin can repeat in his head when he dives in and starts paddling towards the massive current. When he reaches the border of the pull of water he takes in a deep breath, closes his eyes, and dives under. He embraces the second of calamity underneath. There is no sound, no chaos – just pure stillness. Then the quick second is over, and he finds himself right in the middle of the rip current being pulled into the depth of the sea. He maintains his balance, floating on his buoy and constantly paddling, looking for the body of the screaming boy’s friend.

 

“Hello?” He calls out. “Hello?” But nobody is there, just the sound of the water getting stronger and rougher.

 

Panic _really_ starts to set in when Marvin realizes he might have lost someone on duty.

 

“HELLO!” He screams again. “IS ANYBODY HERE?”

 

Suddenly, a body pops out of the water, gasping for air and jaggedly fighting the waves pulling him down.

 

Marvin sighs in relief and rapidly paddles over to him.

 

“Hi,” He says grabbing a hold of the guy’s body to keep him above water. “I’m the lifeguard, I’m gonna need you to stay with me okay? Hold onto this buoy.”

 

The guy grudgingly grabs a hold, coughing and flailing.

 

“Okay, good.” Marvin yells over the rough waters. “Now we’re going to paddle across. I’m going to need you to try as hard as you can okay? Go!”

 

Both of them start paddling parallel to the shore, desperately trying to leave the grip of the ocean tide.

 

“C’mon you got this, HARDER.” Marvin shouts.

 

Both of them frantically paddle solid and strong until they finally get over the current and make it into calmer waters.

 

As they reach the other side and drift back into the shore, most of the crowd has dispersed but there are still some stragglers watching and clapping at their return.

 

Despite his success, Marvin still feels like he is going to have a heart attack. He leans his whole body onto the warm sand for a minute, not even thinking of how much he is going to have to scrub off before he leaves, he’s just trying to find his breath again as he holds tight to the land beneath him.

 

But then Marvin remembers – the guy he saved. Was he still breathing? Did he need to call an ambulance? He quickly sits up, looks over, and to Marvin’s relief, sees him standing up and coughing. But that’s not all Marvin sees as he looks up. He sees the silhouette of a guy probably around his age, albeit rather taller, slimmer, and tanner than him, with thick, wet hair and his body glistening from the combination of sun and water.

 

“MY BOARD?!” The guy suddenly shouts after he finishes his coughing fit of ocean water, breaking Marvin out of his trance.

 

“Uh – I – What?” Marvin says quickly redirecting his attention and standing up.

 

“My surfboard!” He says, like Marvin should know exactly what the hell he was talking about. “Where is it?”

 

“Oh. I – I didn’t see it.” Marvin replies.

 

The hot stranger’s face drops like Marvin had just betrayed him and everything he owns.

 

“You mean to tell me,” he pauses for a second adding to the suddenly dramatic and unexpected spectacle. “You didn’t save my board?”

 

Marvin doesn’t respond, but his shocked silence - and the fact that Marvin isn’t pulling a surfboard out of his ass - is presumably an answer enough.

 

“Are you kidding?” The guy says throwing his hands up and landing them on his face. “Fuck. Do you know how much that thing cost me?”

 

Marvin can’t help but let out a laugh of disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

 

The stranger raises an eyebrow, almost in shock that Marvin was talking back to him.

 

“I just saved your _life_ and this is your response? For god’s sake, a simple ‘thank you’ would work just fine.”

 

The stranger’s mouth falls agape, which makes Marvin’s attention fall to his lips until he pries his eyes back up to match his eye contact ready to go off more. But then Marvin catches himself. Getting fired was the _last_ thing he needed and he couldn’t risk fighting with the tourists – even the spoiled, ignorant ones.

 

Marvin sighs, forces himself to relax, and then continues. “Look, I’m sorry. If you want to, you can file a report to my bosses and if we find it we can contact you.”

 

The hot stranger/surfer opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, but then quickly closes it. Instead, he looks Marvin up and down almost as if he’s sizing him up, which makes Marvin want to curl up in a ball and disappear from this situation even more.

 

The surfer sighs and lends out his hand, “I’m Whizzer.”

 

Marvin hesitates, looking from his hand, then up to his eyes, but compliantly shakes it back and replies, “Marvin.”

 

“Well, Marvin.” Whizzer starts as he lets go of his grip. “Thank you. For saving my life. And don’t worry about the surfboard. You can just make it up to me by buying me a drink.” He finishes with a leery smirk.

 

Marvin practically chokes on the salt stuck in the back of his throat, because, _what?_

“Oh, uh, I’m only eighteen.” Marvin responds with forced ease.

 

“So am I.” Whizzer quickly responds, taking a step closer to him, his smirk growing in size and his steady eye contact refusing to budge. “But I’m sure you can figure _something_ out. It _was_ a two-hundred dollar surfboard after all.”

 

Before Marvin could even catch his breath to reply, the boy who was screaming earlier runs over.

 

“Oh my god.” he says in relief, but then immediately asks, “Where’s your board?”

 

Whizzer quickly shoots Marvin a glance over, but ultimately responds, “It didn’t survive. But _I_ did, thanks to this guy.” He says looking over towards Marvin sounding surprisingly, genuinely appreciative, that is until he adds, “And he’s gonna get us some free alcohol.”

 

“No way, sick.” His friend responds despite Marvin’s obvious shocked reaction. “I’m Mendel by the way, thanks for helping him get out, I did not think that was going to end well.”

 

“Um, yeah, no problem.” Marvin starts, trying to regain the conversation “And listen about the dr-”

 

“Hey we have to go,” Whizzer says cutting him off. “But swing by the vacation rentals on 5th Ave tonight at eight. We’re staying in Apartment F. I’m looking forward to that drink.” The smirk quickly returns to Whizzer’s face before him and his friend run off towards the mainland leaving Marvin alone, confused, and dumbfounded by the turn of events that just went down in less than twenty minutes. See, this is why Marvin _hates_ the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll definitely be updating soon! Feedback is always appreciated <3


	3. Payback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ummmm what year is it??? i have seemingly lost track of time. here's an update lmao.

_Knock, knock, knock_

Marvin can’t even believe he was actually here, but every time he would convince himself to not go and just blow off what had happened today the surfer’s smirk would enter his mind and not go away despite whatever distraction he tried. Neither would the way his toned body shined beneath the water droplets or the glow in his eye when he was pissed or the way his body felt against Marvin’s when he was pulling him out of the water –

 

“Marvin!” Mr. Finn greets him pleasantly when he finally answers the door. “Come in.”

 

As Marvin wonders into the house, he tries not to stare at the dust piling up on the countertops or the fact that the kitchen looks like it hasn’t been touched in years.

 

“Take a seat, boy.” Mr. Finn motions to him as he himself sits down on the navy blue recliner he has had for as long as Marvin could remember.

 

Marvin takes a seat on the tan leather couch, a couch he basically grew up on. Mr. Finn had taught him to play chess on this couch, Mrs. Finn would bring him cookies on this couch and scold him for watching “too much TV,” and he would fall asleep on this couch when he didn’t have the energy to go home for the night and put up with his parents fighting. This couch was once an oasis for him, but now, it just feels like a cold embrace from a distant relative.

 

“So how’s the beach been?” Mr. Finn asks, keeping his eyes glued to the baseball game on the TV.

 

“Same old, same old.” Marvin replies, pretending to also be paying attention to the game flashing across the TV although he doesn’t have the slightest idea of what any of it means. “The tourists are still there packing it in everyday.”

 

Mr. Finn lets out a half laugh. That was one thing Marvin and him were always able to bond on, their hate for tourists and the beach. Marvin was never sure why, despite this, Mr. Finn stayed here. It would’ve been so easy for him to just pack up and go, especially since he’s alone now, but he never budged, and by the looks of it doesn’t plan on it anytime soon.

 

“Save anybody’s life lately?” Mr. Finn asks, actually looking towards Marvin this time.

 

Marvin hesitates for a quick moment before replying, “Unless you count telling obsessive parents that their kids will be fine from swallowing some ocean water, then no.”

 

Mr. Finn just shoots him an expressive smile then looks back towards the TV.

 

Marvin pays attention to the game for as long as he can. The Yankees are up to bat on the fifth inning. The camera quickly pans towards the pitcher on the opposing team and Marvin can’t help but notice how nervous he looks... and how handsome he is.

 

He quickly catches himself and looks away, the coldness of the leather couch fleetingly creeping up his back and sending a cautionary chill down his spine.

 

He knows he can’t stay in this house for too long before it becomes too unbearable – he needs to do what he came to do and then get out.

 

“Do you mind if I use the bathroom?” Marvin asks.

 

“Sure.” Mr. Finn replies, luckily not noticing the edge in Marvin’s voice as his eyes remain on the game. “You know where it is.”

 

Marvin stands up from the couch and makes his way towards the hallway passed the kitchen, keeping his eyes forward and trying to ignore the fact that his heart was racing a mile a minute.

 

He makes it into the bathroom and quickly locks the door behind him. He leans onto the sink, tightening his grip and trying his best to calm himself down. He looks at himself in the mirror, _you don’t have to do this,_ he thinks, _you can just walk out and go home._ But he knew he had to. If he didn’t, the rest of his summer would be wondering what would have happened if he did.

 

He takes a deep breath and leaves the small bathroom, but instead of going back into the living room to join Mr. Finn, he walks further down the hallway towards their walk-in wine cellar. This was Mrs. Finn’s favorite feature of the house, when Marvin was over she would bring him in to help dust and organize while telling him all of the history and details about each bottle of liquor. Marvin never knew how or why she knew so much, but the way she talked about each bottle with such an understanding passion was fascinating.

 

Marvin reaches the entrance and finds the key above the door railing – still in the exact same spot from when Marvin was a boy. He carefully inserts the key into the lock, slowly turns the handle, and pushes the door open, trying his best to not make a sound. Once he has enough room, he quickly slides into the cellar and closes the door behind him in one swift motion.

 

He breathes in a sigh of relief but quickly has to stifle a cough when all of the dust floating in the air hits his face. He walks down the staircase with his hand covering his mouth – by the looks of it this room hasn’t been entered, let alone cleaned, in probably _years_.

 

As he reaches the bottom, the nostalgia hits him like a huge wave. It was smaller than he remembered, or maybe Marvin is just bigger, but it is exactly the same. He could basically hear Mrs. Finn humming while dusting each bottle.

 

He wasn’t exactly sure which one to choose, he had never really drank before, only champagne at a wedding once. He rubs off the dust on the bottles looking at the labels – most of them are old, expensive wine that Marvin knows he doesn’t want. Mrs. Finn used to tell him that _“fancy wine is an acquired taste that you have to build up to”_ and from Marvin’s lack of experience, figures those wouldn’t be the best choice. He then comes across a bottle of _Qui_ tequila. Mrs. Finn told him on one rainy summer day that this type of alcohol took three years to age. It would even change color during the aging process, going from a dark brown to a clear.

Marvin slips the bottle under his shirt and quickly yet quietly goes back up the stairs and relocks the door. He speed walks out of the hallway and into the living room.

 

“Mom just called,” He lies to Mr. Finn whose attention is still devoted to the TV. “Wants me home. Thanks for letting me stop by.”

 

“Anytime Marv – ” But Marvin is already out of the house and running to the apartment rentals before Mr. Finn can finish, or more importantly, catch a glimpse of him. He just hopes that the icy feeling of guilt will wear off with the alcohol consumption.

 

\---

 

Marvin is embarrassingly short of breath when he reaches the vacation rentals at about 8:07 pm. He forgot how taxing it is to run straight through the island, dodging the strip of bars and the mix of the locals and tourists who occupy the paths.

 

When he catches his breath, he starts walking up 5th Ave, passing the cookie-cutter vacation rentals one by one, and trying to validate what he is doing.

_Apartment A_... He really doesn’t know why he’s here, or why he went through so much trouble to get here and to get what the spoiled tourist wanted.

 

_Apartment B_... But maybe Marvin just wants to have fun. He is always a rule follower, why not roll with the tide for once and see where it takes him?

 

_Apartment C_... Because rolling with the tide is _reckless_. The tide has no rhyme or reason, it simply pushes and pulls whoever dares to face it. He’s seen what rolling with the tide can do – it never ends well.

 

_Apartment D_... Then WHY is here. Why. Seems to be the question of his goddamn life. Was the surfboard really two hundred dollars and Marvin just feels guilty? Does he expect to form a friendship with these cliché surfer boys? Marvin can’t answer why.

 

_Apartment E_... Well maybe it’s the latter – maybe he just wants to make friends. He doesn’t really have any of those except for Charlotte who he met the first day of lifeguard training. Maybe it would be good to expand his horizons.

 

Apartment F. Marvin simply stands and stares at the small gray apartment building, his grip tightens on the tequila bottle still under the thin fabric of his shirt as he swallows the nervous lump in his throat.

 

He makes his way up the creaky steps to the porch and tentatively knocks on the door. After about a minute with no answer he knocks again, but still, nothing.

 

_Oh god_ he thinks _were they just messing with him and nobody’s here?_

 

Before he has enough time to ponder the thought and set into panic mode, the short curly-haired boy who was the one screaming from the shore pops out from around the back of the house.

 

“Oh no way, you pulled through?” He says as his eyes light up and a huge smile beckons on his face when his focus land on the bottle of alcohol.

 

“Yeah,” Marvin starts. “I felt bad about the surfboard, so I figured I’d keep my word.” When it comes out of Marvin’s mouth he almost believes it.

 

“Awesome! Well we’re hanging out by the bay right now fishing, I just came back to get some bait. Let me go inside, grab some cups then we can walk down and meet them there.”

 

“Them?” Marvin automatically questions before he can catch himself.

 

“Yeah, Whizzer and Cordelia.” He nonchalantly replies like all of them have been best friends forever. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

 

Cordelia. A girl. Marvin doesn’t know why there’s a pit in his stomach at the mention that the guy who he doesn’t even know is with a girl. And it really shouldn’t matter. Especially if he’s just trying to make friends, right?

 

Marvin and the boy, who reintroduces himself as Mendel, make their way down to the bay with awkward small talk about the town. Marvin has been having these needless conversations for eighteen years, and he’s scraped up a lot of seemingly interesting information about his beach town that the tourists always eat up. It’s almost like a script he reads off of at this point. Luckily, when he starts to reach the end of his interesting facts that he can remember off the top of his head, they reach the bay.

 

It is low tide, so they can see all of the fresh barnacles on the poles of the docks where the water usually reaches, and the sunset is giving off an orange tint that bounces off of the boats and into the water, making the reflection look like a fiery abyss. Marvin closes his eyes and breathes in the cool breeze that only comes around right here at this time of night. The tranquility of the moment almost makes him forget why he is there and who he is there with. That is until he hears someone shout,

 

“Hey!”

 

He opens his eyes to see the surfer who he saved the life of waving towards them on the dock, standing right next to a cute and tall girl with a blonde bob flashing a perfect smile.

 

Marvin gulps as he follows Mendel down to meet them, suddenly regretting everything he’s done leading up to this moment.

 

“Well, well, well.” Whizzer says as they reach them on the docks. “Looks like this lifeguard is worth more than just losing your surfboard.”

 

Marvin immediately shoots him an exasperated look, but then directs his attention to the girl standing next to him.

 

“Marvin,” Whizzer starts while suddenly grabbing the bottle of liquor out of his hands, opening it, and pouring a cup. “This is Cordelia.”

 

“Cordelia.” He says, handing her the cup he poured. “This is Marvin, the lifeguard who lost my surfboard.”

 

“And saved your life.” Marvin immediately adds, only to be met with a smirk and a wink from Whizzer before he takes a shot of alcohol straight out of the bottle.

 

Marvin grabs the bottle out of Whizzer’s hands to pour his own cup, desperately needing something to take the edge off.

 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” Cordelia says, once again flashing a smile. “And thank you for saving his life. I know he can be an ass, but we wouldn’t know how to go on without him.”

 

“Damn straight.” Whizzer says in between sips.

 

Cordelia seems so nice and genuine, and Marvin knows _he_ is the one being an ass when he only reciprocates a half smile back at her response.

 

There is a beat of silence between the four of them as they silently sip their tequila. Marvin turns his attention towards the water below them, the sudden self-conscious dynamic between them making him want to dive into the bay, swim away, and never look back. He suddenly feels Whizzer’s eyes on him and it’s almost like he can feel them burning into his skin – or maybe the burning sensation is just the alcohol.

 

“Delia,” Mendel suddenly says, breaking the stillness. “Let’s go check on our nets down at the edge.”

 

“Uh, okay.” Cordelia says before adding, “Hey, why don’t you two go under the dock and start fishing, we’ll meet you down there.”

 

_No_. Marvin thinks.

 

“Okay!” Whizzer responds, finally locking eyes with him before shamelessly leading the way and saying. “Let’s go, Marvin.”

 

Marvin swallows the immediate mix of fear and tequila that arises in the back of his throat as he follows the surfer off of the dock and down the rocks towards the sand of the shoreline.

 

There is more sand than usual to hang out on since it’s low tide, and Marvin is thankful that they won’t have to squish together in order to fit. Before they make it on the sand though, Whizzer stops and sits down on a big, flat rock, innocently looking back towards Marvin when he just stands there confused.

 

“Can I tell you a secret?” He says.

 

“Um... sure.” Marvin tries to respond as casual as possible.

 

Whizzer lets out a sigh as he looks out into the bay, seeming to ponder whatever he is about to say.

 

Marvin unnervingly waits for whatever it is, his heart rate growing with every second.

 

“I hate fishing.” Whizzer finally says, then looks back up at Marvin with a poised smile.

 

Marvin lets out a mix of a sigh of relief and a laugh, then walks over and sits down next to him on the rock.

 

“I honestly thought you were going to profess your deepest, darkest secret to me.” He says, keeping his eyes toward the bay.

 

“Not yet.” Whizzer pointedly says, as he brings his drink to his lips, his focus remaining on the water out in front of them too.

 

“So,” Marvin starts. “If you hate fishing then why are we here?”

 

Whizzer motions his cup to the end of the dock where he could make out two small figures throwing nets out into the water.

 

“They love it. Cordelia would come here every summer when she was a kid and her and her dad would come to this dock and fish every night. I mean, we don’t come _every_ night, although it can sure feel that way sometimes. But it’s worth it, because it always makes her happy.”

 

Marvin finally looks over towards Whizzer as his attention is still on Mendel and Cordelia. This is probably the first genuine thing he has heard him say since they met, which only makes the ache at the bottom of his stomach hurt more.

 

Marvin draws his attention back towards the water before bringing his cup of tequila up to his lips and asking,

 

“So, how long have you and Cordelia been dating?”

 

Whizzer nearly chokes on his drink as he starts coughing, or, no, laughing? Both? Marvin can’t tell.

 

“Um, are you okay?” Marvin asks.

 

“Yeah.” Whizzer says as he pulls himself together, wiping away what seams to be a tear from his eye. “But, uh, Cordelia and I aren’t dating.”

 

“Oh.” Marvin responds, suddenly feeling the aching pit in his stomach vanish and spread out into the warmth of his body.

 

“So are Mendel and Cordelia dating? Is that why they sent us off?”

 

Whizzer slightly laughs again, “Uh no. Cordelia isn’t really into guys... in _that_ way.”

 

“Oh... _Oh_.” Marvin responds, finally understanding what he means and silently wishing he could relate.

 

“Yeah.” Whizzer starts. “Don’t worry about it, you’re not the first to ask. Every guy we become friends with always tries to get with her at some point or another.”

 

“Oh – I don’t, I wasn’t, that’s not why... I was asking.” Marvin stammers before being met with Whizzer’s meddling brow raise. “I was just curious. You two seem very close.” He eventually says before taking another long sip of tequila.

 

“We are.” Whizzer says, his gaze still on Marvin. “We were each other’s only friend for a long time. We grew up together, and I think we always just understood each other, even when no one else would.”

 

“And Mendel?” Marvin asks.

 

“We met Mendel a couple of years ago. He was ‘the new kid in school’ and since we went to a small, private school it automatically made him an outcast; but Cordelia did what she always does and when she met him first period she immediately took him under her wing. We’ve all been best friends ever since.”

 

The warm buzz from the tequila starts to spread out all across Marvin’s body and he slowly feels his eyes focus solely on the surfer’s mouth as they continue to drink and Whizzer continues to talk about the small suburban town in upper New York State that he’s from. Marvin usually hates small talk, but the way that Whizzer speaks and his ability to make even a simple story sound interesting makes Marvin feel like he could sit, sip, and listen for hours.

 

“Actually, Cordelia was the one who introduced me to surfing when we were about ten. My family visited her vacation house for a weekend and her and her dad taught me. The moment I caught my first wave was the most freeing experience I’ve ever felt. Ever since that moment I have yet to find an experience other than surfing that makes me feel so _alive_.”

 

He turns his head towards Marvin, and with the slight motion, Marvin only then realizes how intensely he is staring at him and how close they have scooted next to each other while talking on the small rock they are perched on, his original fear of having to squish together on the sand seeming miniscule now.

 

“How much have you had to drink?” Whizzer questions with a laugh.

 

“Enough.” Marvin jokingly answers, although his breath is soon taken from him at the feeling of Whizzer’s own breath deliberately hitting his face.

 

Marvin sits perfectly still as he watches Whizzer’s eyes fall to _his_ lips. Once again, he hears the tide call out to him, to dive in, to submerge himself in the uncontrolled waters, and he wants to, god he wants to –

 

Suddenly the ferry engine roars – the sound that constantly brings him back to reality, always on time, never late by even a second.

 

Marvin quickly turns away, avoiding the risky water’s calling out right next to him. “I should go.” He says, as he stands up, unable to make eye contact with the surfer below him.

 

“Oh, uh, okay.” Whizzer says simultaneously standing, but Marvin is already climbing the rocks to make it back to the mainland.

 

“Wait!” Whizzer shouts after him, holding up the bottle of stolen liquor. “Your tequila!”

 

“Keep it.” Marvin shouts when he reaches the top of the rocks. “Payback for the surfboard. We’re even now.”

 

As he starts to walk back to his house, Marvin is barely able to make out a “That’s not why – ” from Whizzer down below at the shoreline. But it’s too late, and Marvin isn’t sober enough to care what the end of the sentence could be. His only focus in mind is to go back to his house and curl up in his bed, safe from any tidal pulls and treacherous waters that beckon him.


	4. Very

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> happy new year! sorry for being like the worst writer ever lol. if you are reading this or have come back to read this new chapter I love and appreciate you so so much <3

Marvin callously wakes up to his head pounding and his phone ringer blaring nonstop on his nightstand. He puts a pillow over his head, planning on ignoring whoever the hell is trying to call him at this unforeseen hour. The phone, though, refuses to cease-fire. He grudgingly grabs ahold of it and bitterly answers,

 

“Hello?”

 

“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?” He hears a familiar voice shout so loud and angry through his speaker that he has to put some distance between himself and the phone so it doesn’t make his headache any worse than it already is.

 

“What are you talking about?” He barely answers, still half asleep.

 

“YOU SAID YOU WOULD COVER MY SHIFT TODAY WHILE I’M AT COLLEGE ORIENTATION, MARVIN. I JUST GOT A CALL FROM OUR BOSS SAYING THAT NO ONE HAS SHOWN UP?”

 

“Charlotte. Shit.” He says now wide awake and sitting up, only now remembering he agreed to cover her 8 A.M. shift. He looks over at the clock – 8:26. Fuck.

 

“I’m sorry,” He says while getting up and trying to get dressed as fast as he can. “I’ll text him and let him know I’m on my way. Charlotte, I’m so sorry last night was just – ”

 

“I’ll talk to you later, Marvin, I have to get back to the presentation.” And with that, she hangs up.

 

“Goddammit.” He frustratingly says to himself, scouring his room for his sunglasses. He finally finds them under his pile of dirty laundry then bolts out of the door – mildly hungover and not even close to ready to take on a full day in the hot Jersey sun.

 

\---

 

Luckily the beach isn’t that crowded so their boss wasn’t _that_ pissed. Okay, he was still pissed, but Marvin has definitely seen him way worse.

 

He makes sure he adjusts his umbrella so it covers him just enough to avoid the sun – since he was running late today he completely forgot to grab his sunscreen on the way out. If he gets sunburned he figures he’ll just pin the blame on the smooth-talking surfer who got him into this mess in the first place. He needs something, or in this case, someone, to make himself feel less responsible.

 

If there’s one thing Mrs. Finn left out of her multitude-of-facts about the bottle of tequila Marvin stole is that the hangover is a bitch. He practically has to lay all the way back in his lifeguard chair for the pounding in his head to not be so agonizing and for the ocean waves crashing against his insides to remain where they are and not come up – not having time to eat or drink anything probably didn’t help either.

 

As Marvin lays there in his lifeguard chair with the umbrella barely protecting him from the UV rays slowly giving him skin cancer, the bustle of the ocean waves and chatter of the tourists slowly become a more and more distant hum. He’s drifting off, and he knows he shouldn’t, but he’s so _exhausted_ and _hungover_ and what’s the likelihood of a riptide happening two days in a row? And even if it did, what’s the likelihood of another pretty boy getting stuck in it?

 

_Whizzer_

Just his name sends immediate tingles to Marvin’s fingertips. Those brown eyes glowing in the sun reflecting off the water. His mouth so addicting and compelling and knowing exactly how to tell a story with ease. And that toned, tan body spreading warmth on a small rock perched perfectly on the bay, almost as if nature set it up just for them to sit on-

 

“Sleeping on the job I see.”

 

Marvin’s eyes jolt open and he silently thanks his sunglasses for hiding his body’s immediate reaction. He jaggedly sits up, suddenly feeling as if gravity has increased tremendously in the last minute – unsure if it’s the hangover getting worse or the familiar, voice shouting up to him.

 

He lifts up his sunglasses ever so slightly to see the outline of the aforethought surfer staring up at him with a board in hand, looking as annoyingly cheery as ever, and somehow not hungover at all.

 

“Oof,” Whizzer reacts, which is obviously _not_ what Marvin was hoping for, to say the least. “You don’t drink much do you?”

 

Marvin returns the glasses to the bridge of his nose in a pissy motion and leans back down in his chair before saying, “Go get stuck in a riptide again, this time I won’t care.”

 

He hears the echo of Whizzer’s laugh before he responds, “You know Hungover Marvin is not nearly as fun as Drunk Marvin.”

 

Marvin just remains in position, hoping his silence will give Whizzer the hint to fuck off and leave him alone to lament in pain. But Whizzer’s presence remains at the bottom of the lifeguard chair, seemingly stirring and _wanting_ something as if he’s a child.

 

Marvin grudgingly sits up again, lifts his sunglasses to rest in his hair, and irritatingly raises an eyebrow.

 

Whizzer shoots him a smirk, and Marvin waits for an inevitable, annoying remark to come from this too-pretty-for-his-own-good surfer. But to his complete shock, Whizzer suddenly tosses him a water bottle that Marvin barely manages to catch.

 

“You need it more than me.” Whizzer simply states, his strong smirk changing into a softer expression.

 

Marvin looks down at the ice-cold water in confusion, unsure if this is some type of trick, or there’s some type of catch, or if this is another thing that Marvin will have to _payback_ in some type of way.

 

He looks back down ready to ask, but Whizzer is already running towards the waves, ready to play tricks with the tide just as he is doing to the boy whose job depends on them.

 

Marvin doesn’t want to, but it’s already quarter till 10, and he hasn’t drank or eaten anything today, so he quickly downs the whole bottle. Soon enough, he starts to feel so much better and actually is able to sit up. And yes, he is able to do his job and maintain duty, but more importantly, he’s able to watch Whizzer surf.

 

He watches him as he paddles out further and further into the Atlantic and when he gets over the whitewater waves he calmly sits on his board, almost as if he’s soaking up every ounce of salt and sun he can to gain the energy to paddle with a wave and fly with it. And once he does, it’s pure euphoria. Marvin even finds himself silently rooting for him when he is able to stand and glide with such naturalness. Then the wave breaks, and he and his board go flying down – that is until he pops back up and runs a hand through his wet hair, the smile painted on his face radiating uncontrollable bliss.

 

After one of the times Whizzer manages to perfectly catch a wave and pops back up, he immediately turns towards Marvin – and Marvin can’t help but feel Whizzer is _hoping_ that Marvin has been witnessing him perform his flawless technique – almost as if that makes this situation ten times more fun for him.

 

“Alright, Marv.” Another lifeguard says, breaking him out of his focus on the surfer in the water. “You’re good to go.”

 

 _Damn it’s noon already?_ Marvin thinks to himself. Usually, he’s counting down the minutes, if not seconds, that he gets to leave.

 

He hops off the lifeguard chair and starts walking towards the mainland to his car, already feeling his skin tingle in a sensation that’s only there when he doesn’t wear sunscreen.

 

He stands under the small, outdoor shower in the parking lot and starts to scrub off the sand stuck to his feet, then he closes his eyes and turns around so his sunburned back can relish in the feeling of the cold water providing a relieving pain.

 

Suddenly, the water turns off and when Marvin opens his eyes he is met with the infamous brown ones paired with their signature smirk.

 

Marvin’s breath quickly diminishes and he immediately steps away from under the shower, putting necessary space between himself and the boy staring him down.

 

Whizzer then turns the shower back on and starts to scrub the sand off of his board as Marvin just stands there, unsure what to do but to just watch his the surfer’s tan body under the droplets of water hitting him.

 

“You’re welcome.” Whizzer simply says, his eyes never leaving focus of his board.

 

Marvin winces and crosses his arms over his chest, unsure of why he should be thanking him in the first place.

 

“For..?” He questions.

 

Whizzer finally looks towards him, his brows creased.

 

“The water.” Whizzer straightforwardly answers. “You would’ve passed out in about twenty minutes if I didn’t _save_ you.”

 

Marvin’s mouth falls agape as Whizzer goes back to scrubbing his board. He can’t believe that he is actually trying to insinuate that handing him a water bottle is in any way comparable to what Marvin actually did for him yesterday, who at this point, doesn’t even seem like he deserved it.

 

“Well, I wouldn’t need to be _saved_ if I didn’t _actually_ have to save you in the first place.” He replies, the annoyance in Marvin’s voice quite evident. “And I thought you lost your board, isn’t that why I’m in this situation?”

 

Whizzer doesn’t answer at first – instead, he just smiles, lays his board to the side of them, and hops under the shower himself. He stands there as the water rains down on his body, and Marvin has to physically pry his eyes away from the scene when Whizzer puts his hands up in his hair, exposing nearly _every_ visible part of himself.

 

Fed up, Marvin carefully leans over Whizzer’s torso and turns the shower off on him this time.

 

Whizzer sighs and rolls his eyes, albeit with a clear smile on his face, obviously enjoying this game.

 

“Geez.” He finally breaks his silence as he shakes his hair dry. “I didn’t realize my surfboard meant that much to you.”

 

Marvin doesn’t react, instead, he just stands there with his feet planted to the ground demanding an answer that really doesn’t matter or change the outcome of anything that has happened.

 

“It’s Mendel’s.” Whizzer finally answers. “He let me borrow it cause he and Cordelia went into the city to see a matinee of some show, they’ll be back later tonight.”

 

Marvin looks down, almost wishing the answer was different – it would be easier to justify everything that way.

 

“So,” Whizzer continues, making Marvin look back up at him, noticing the unmistakable spark in his eyes. “You should show me around the island.”

 

Marvin immediately laughs at the thought, but Whizzer doesn’t budge. He even raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms at Marvin’s apparently crazy reaction.

 

“You’re serious?” Marvin apprehensively questions.

 

“Do you have something better to do?” Whizzer retaliates.

 

In all honesty, he doesn’t, and even though Whizzer is a completely selfish asshole, anything is better than going home to his parents who are probably fighting about god knows what at this point. Plus Whizzer’s not _such_ bad company to _look_ at.

 

Marvin sighs, caving “Alright. But if you almost die on me again I’m not saving you this time. I’ve already made that mistake once.”

 

Whizzer’s face immediately twists into a voluminous smile and his eyes go bright before responding, “ _Deal_.”

 

\---

 

To Marvin’s surprise, they actually have... fun.

 

He brings him to Hartshorne Woods where they hike halfway up a black diamond trail until they see some type of animal that Whizzer swears is “just a bunny” but Marvin swears it was much, much bigger and clearly after _something..._ or _someone._

He then brings him to Mount Mitchill Scenic Overlook where a nice older lady feeding birds spares them a quarter so they can use the binoculars and look out into the bay for a grand total of sixty seconds.

 

Then they walk a while on the boardwalk and Whizzer loses _badly_ at some toss-the-ring carnival game.

 

“It was clearly rigged.” He continuously repeats.

 

“Whatever you say.” Marvin returns.

 

They finally reach some hole-in-the-wall Italian place and decide to go in and grab a bite when the smell of classic boardwalk pizza makes them notice how hungry they are.

 

As each of them orders a slice and sits down Marvin carefully asks,

 

“So how long are you guys here for?”

 

“Until the end of the month.” Whizzer answers. “It’s kind of depressing because this is our last big thing we’re doing together. We’re all going off to different colleges in the fall.”

 

“Where are you going?” Marvin immediately asks.

 

“Cornell.” He responds.

 

Marvin has to stop himself from choking on his fountain drink, obviously not doing a great job at hiding his shocked reaction.

 

Luckily Whizzer finds it amusing as he lets out a chuckle before saying,

 

“You know I’m more than just a pretty face, _Marv_.”

 

Marvin just tilts his head and winces at the nickname he has always despised.

 

“Two cheese?” An older man with a heavy Italian accent says before setting down two paper plates with huge pieces of pizza on them.

 

Marvin’s eyes intuitively follow Whizzer’s mouth as he wraps it around the pizza and he has to tightly grip onto his drink when Whizzer basically moans as the melted cheese hits his tongue.

 

“I forgot how much better Jersey pizza is than Upstate’s.” Whizzer says as he wipes his mouth.

 

“So what about you?” he then asks before taking another bite. “Are you heading to college?”

 

“Oh – uh, yeah,” Marvin responds. “NYU.”

 

“Hey, that’s where Mendel’s going! Maybe you can room together.”

 

“Surfer bro Mendel is going to college in the city?” He questions.

 

“Yeah,” Whizzer starts. “If he had his choice I don’t think he would even go to college, but he comes from a line of Jewish doctors... I think he feels like he would be betraying them if he doesn’t.”

 

“Ah.” Marvin responds, then without thinking adds, “I don’t know, it could be nice though to have some sort of legacy to actually live up to. Even if I was a CEO of a multi-million dollar company I still think my parents would act like I’m not _doing_ enough.”

 

He looks up at Whizzer whose mouth is now pressed into a small, thin line and Marvin immediately ridicules himself for spilling his personal problems on someone who doesn’t care in the slightest.

 

“I’m sorry, you don’t –”

 

“No,” Whizzer cuts him off. “Trust me, I get it. I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells with my parents. I have to live my life like this and have my personality be shaped into that, and _then_ they’ll be proud of me. I mean, I’m not directly being told _‘be a doctor’_ but there’s an unspoken precedent that if I ever stray away from their ideals they would be insanely disappointed.”

 

He starts to pick gratuitously at the checkered tablecloth, and Marvin can tell that he’s obviously out of his comfort zone talking about things like this. Truth be told, Marvin can’t blame him, he’s in the same boat. Sure he’ll rant to Charlotte every now and then, but the idea of treating someone as your own personal psychiatrist has always irked him – especially because you never know how someone will act when divulging such intimate information about yourself.

 

Their conversation quickly turns light again, though, as they debate whether pineapple belongs on pizza for the next hour – the topic even follows them out of the restaurant.

 

“You’re _disgusting_.” Whizzer basically screams as they walk down the boardwalk back to Marvin’s car. “Nobody should ever suffer having a sweet and juicy taste on their pizza. It’s probably what they serve people in prison.”

 

“But that’s why it’s so good!” Marvin retaliates. “The juxtaposition between the sweet and salty makes it perfect. Are you gonna tell me that chocolate covered potato chips are gross too?”

 

“Wow _‘juxtaposition,’_ Marvin is pulling out the big-boy words that got him into NYU.” Whizzer remarks. “You might have fooled the admissions board but you’re not fooling me. Pineapple on pizza is unacceptable. End of discussion.”

 

“Fine, but you’re wrong.” Marvin says as they reach his car.

 

“No, I’m right,” Whizzer adds as he opens the door and sits down in the passenger seat, continuously trying to deprive Marvin from having the last word. “I’m usually right about most things.”

 

Marvin opens his mouth to continue their disagreement, but once his now fully developed sunburn hits the rough cotton on the seats of his 2006 Camry he can’t help but to merely wince in pain.

 

“I’ll take that as an _agreement_.” Whizzer simply says with a satisfied grin that makes Marvin want to sucker punch him right in his pretty mouth.

 

“No, _asshole,_ I have a sunburn thanks to _you_.” Marvin replies out of spite.

 

“How the hell is that my fault?” Whizzer questions, peeved at the accusation.

 

“Maybe if you didn’t make me feel like a jackass for losing your precious surfboard I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to make it up to you, resulting in me being hungover as fuck this morning and not able to properly do my job.”

 

“Hey,” Whizzer states firmly, immediately defending himself, “Nobody _forced_ you to hang out and drink with us. It would have been better if you just dropped it off and _left_.”

 

Marvin’s face falls and his mouth twists as he slowly looks from Whizzer’s indifferent expression to out of his windshield. He turns on the car, taking everything in him to not retaliate because, honestly, the son of a bitch is right, although he would _never_ admit that out loud. Last night was a mistake, hell, _today_ was a mistake – this whole friendship, or whatever it is, will not end well. Marvin will romanticize it far beyond what it really is and by the end of the month, he’ll be left alone with unrequited feelings that’ll eat him up until he’s left into an even more empty shell of hopelessness.

 

They drive out of the parking lot and towards the vacation rentals with nothing but the static-y radio filling the tense air between them.

 

As Marvin turns onto 5th Ave he notices out of the corner of his eye that Whizzer has changed his dramatic position of simply looking out of the window with his arms crossed, now, he’s leaning on the door and looking right at Marvin. Marvin doesn’t give him the satisfaction of looking back towards him, but he barely makes out the soft expression painted on the surfer’s face – it’s almost as if he decided to take off his mask, thinking no one is paying attention.

 

He pulls in front of Apartment F and Whizzer’s soft expression completely fades as he jumps out of the car without any hesitation. He immediately goes to open Marvin’s trunk to get Mendel’s surfboard and Marvin simply watches him from the rearview mirror.

 

As he pulls it out and closes the trunk, he walks away from the car and towards the house without delay, acting as if Marvin is some sort of unpaid Uber driver.

 

Marvin immediately hops out the car and slams the door, making Whizzer stop in his tracks.

 

“You’re welcome.” Marvin shouts, throwing Whizzer’s own satirical words back at him.

 

Whizzer slowly turns around, the expression on his face unreadable – Marvin can’t tell if he’s silently happy he finally broke the silence or genuinely pissed off.

 

To his relief, though, Whizzer’s shoulders drop and he smiles ever so slightly before speaking,

 

“Cordelia has the perfect remedy for sunburn.”

 

Marvin waits for him to continue, but he doesn’t, so he raises his eyebrow, confused and unsure of what he should do with this information.

 

Shockingly, Whizzer motions his head for Marvin to come inside then walks towards the back of the house –acting as if this is not an offer.

 

Without thinking much of it, Marvin follows him around back. Whizzer leans the surfboard against the house next to a purple and black one that Marvin can only assume is Cordelia’s and walks up the porch steps and through the screen door. Marvin leisurely follows him inside, instantly noticing how annoyingly cliché the house is decorated – from the walls painted a light blue color that Marvin can only assume is called _Ocean Mist_ to the framed decals spread out on the walls that say things like _Home Is Where The Beach Is._ He has to stop himself from gagging.

He then follows Whizzer into the kitchen where he starts pulling out items from the fridge.

 

“So, what exactly does this ‘perfect remedy’ consist of?” Marvin asks, suddenly realizing he has no idea what he has gotten himself into.

 

“Just trust me.” Whizzer composedly replies. He then grabs his supplies and locks eyes with Marvin before saying, “Let’s go upstairs.”

 

The back of Marvin’s throat suddenly becomes dry when he _really_ starts to realize he _did not_ think this through. But he’s already in too deep as Whizzer starts heading up the creaky stairs, awaiting Marvin’s presence behind him.

 

Marvin follows him into a room with two beds that is surprisingly neat for a room being shared between two teenagers.

 

“I’m kind of a neat freak.” He explains, seemingly noticing Marvin’s observation. “Mendel hates it.”

 

Marvin just slowly shakes his head in acknowledgement, awkwardly looking around and wondering what is about to happen next.

 

“Okay,” Whizzer says setting down his supplies on a nightstand. “Let’s see it.”

 

“Excuse me?” Marvin quickly reacts.

 

“The sunburn.” Whizzer answers in a matter-of-fact tone while crossing his arms – disappointed that Marvin would think he would be insinuating _anything_ else.

 

“Oh. Yeah.” Marvin says trying to hide the flush in his cheeks.

 

He quickly strips his shirt off and turns around, allowing Whizzer a full view of his burnt back. Suddenly, he feels three fingers press down on his skin and he immediately winces.

 

“ _Relax_ ,” Whizzer says in a hushed tone as he lays a hand on Marvin’s shoulder. “I’m just pressing down to get an idea of the degree.”

 

Marvin just swallows and nods, trying his best to ignore the pool of heat starting to form at the bottom of his stomach.

 

“Alright, it’s not too bad.” Whizzer says taking his hands off of Marvin, allowing him to breathe again, that is before saying “Okay, lay down.”

 

“What?” Marvin questions, quickly turning around. “I thought you said it’s not too bad.”

 

“It still hurts doesn’t it?” Whizzer nonchalantly reiterates. “Come on, I promise I don’t bite.”

 

Marvin signs and apprehensively lies down on the bed underneath him. He tries to solely contain his focus on the soft comforter below and the rough pillow his head is leaning on when Whizzer pours some type of cold liquid on his body.

 

“That freezing.” Marvin bites out from the pillow when Whizzer starts to rub it into his back.

 

“Good, that means it’s working.” He replies, continuing to massage it into Marvin’s skin. “It might sting a little too.”

 

“A LITTLE?” Marvin manages to scream when his back starts to feel like it’s on _fire_. “What the hell _is_ that???”

 

“It’s cold vinegar.” Whizzer answers as he pushes Marvin’s shoulders down when he tries to leave his grip. “It’ll pass in a moment, but this is going to stop the stinging.”

 

“STOP IT?” Marvin screams. “IT’S MAKING IT _WORSE_.”

 

“ _Marvin_.” Whizzer suddenly shouts as Marvin continues to try to squirm away. “You have to let it sit to get it’s full effect – ugh fine, you know what.”

 

Suddenly, Whizzer positions himself on Marvin’s lower back while pressing down on his shoulders, and the pure shock of the swift moment makes Marvin go completely still. He’s almost thankful for the pain acting as a distraction since Whizzer is literally _on top_ of him.

 

The stinging soon fades and the tension in Marvin’s shoulders leaves until he quickly remembers that Whizzer is literally _straddling_ him.

 

“Okay you can get off now, the stinging is gone.” Marvin affirms.

 

“Nah,” Whizzer simply answers as he reaches over for the other bottle on the nightstand. “It’s easier this way.”

 

Marvin lays his face directly into the mattress as Whizzer squirts the other bottle’s contents into his hand and slowly starts to massage it into his skin.

 

He immediately notices the familiar, cooling relief of aloe vera once it hits his back, and he tries his best to choke the noises that he is making into the pillow due to the strong and firm hands _slowly_ and _deliberately_ rubbing up and down his body.

 

He accidentally lets one slip, but thankfully, Whizzer mistakes it as one of discomfort.

 

“ _Shhh._ ” Whizzer reacts and starts to rub Marvin’s shoulders, presumably trying to soothe him.

 

Eventually, Marvin does relax for a while. He allows himself to relish in the feeling of a hot boy _on top of_ him and _massaging_ him and _satisfying_ his needs.

 

“Listen,” Whizzer suddenly begins, as he continues to rub down his spine. “I didn’t – _mean_ what I said back in the car. I did want you to hang out with us last night.”

 

Marvin waits for him to continue speaking, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just continues the addicting contact of his hands on his back.

 

“Uh – Thank you?” Marvin responds, unsure of what the correct response to a statement like that is.

 

“You’re welcome.” Whizzer replies with a laugh, those two words seemingly having a double meaning today.

 

Then, to Marvin’s disappointment, Whizzer gets off of his back and rolls off the bed, allowing Marvin to sit up. When he does, he swears Whizzer is looking at him with some new glow in his eyes, but Marvin is too aware of the all-too-familiar feeling of tightness in his pants to think much of it.

 

“I should get going.” Marvin says putting on his shirt, not wanting Whizzer to notice the added effect he had on him. “Um, well, thanks.” He replies, knowingly setting himself up for Whizzer to happily respond,

 

“You’re _very_ welcome.”


	5. Matchmaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update this soon after? Miraculous. Honestly tho it's your feedback that keeps me going so thank you!

 

 

It has been a few days since Marvin and Whizzer’s sunburn fiasco. Marvin’s sunburn has definitely faded and healed, but Whizzer’s hands and touch are all that occupy the lifeguard’s mind day in and out.

 

He hasn’t seen the surfer at the beach on his shifts, though, he hasn’t even seen Mendel or Cordelia, and trust him, he’s been on the lookout.

 

On an unusually crisp Sunday evening, Marvin sits outside on his deck trying his best to read a new book his mom brought home for him and avoid the ever-growing tension that occupies the space between his parents – but his mind has other plans, as it slowly drifts off to the vision of warm, familiar hands.

 

Thankfully, before Marvin has to take yet another cold shower, his phone buzzes from a text from Charlotte.

 

_Bored. Wanna go get Moby’s? I’m craving a shrimp combo._

Marvin actually lets out a sigh of relief from the relieving distraction and immediately texts back,

 

_Hell yes. Meet you there in 10._

They order the shrimp combo to split as well as two large fountain drinks and take their seats in the corner purple picnic table where they always sit.

 

“So,” Charlotte starts while dipping a huge fried shrimp into cocktail sauce. “Who is this new tourist that has made your hit-list?”

 

Whizzer. Shit. The last thing Marvin told Charlotte was he saved a stuck-up surfer’s life and was deciding whether or not get him alcohol after feeling guilty for losing his over-priced surfboard.

 

“I ended up getting him and his friends a bottle of tequila.” Marvin says as nonchalantly as possible. “Don’t know if it was equivalent to his surfboard but. Oh well.”

 

“Friends? So you got drunk with this random group of tourists?” Charlotte says, not hiding any ounce of shock.

 

 

“Well, they offered!” Marvin replies, suddenly sounding defensive. “In all honesty, they’re not... _that_ bad.”

 

Charlotte’s barely able to let out an appalled “What the – ” when almost like clockwork he hears a familiar voice exclaim,

 

“Marvin?”

 

He turns his head to see the adorable blonde bob matched with a perfect smile staring back at him with a curly haired boy carrying a tray of food standing right next to her.

 

“Cordelia, Mendel, uh hey!” He says trying to hide the edge in his voice. “Um Charlotte, this is Cordelia and Mendel, the tou– uh – New Yorkers I was telling you about. Cordelia and Mendel this is my friend Charlotte, she also works as a lifeguard.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Cordelia says, and Marvin can’t help but notice Charlotte’s mouth agape and sudden inability to speak. He softly nudges her leg under the table to bring her back to reality.

 

“Hi! Do you want to join us?” Charlotte unexpectedly asks, and this time Marvin nudges her harder under the table. “There’s plenty of room.” She continues, scooting over and shooting Marvin an exasperated look.

 

“Sure, that’d be great!” Cordelia responds, her smile somehow growing larger as well. Her and Mendel set their food down and Cordelia immediately sits down next to Charlotte.

 

“I’ll go get Whizzer,” Mendel then says rolling his eyes, “He’s flirting with the bartender to try to get drinks without I.D.”

 

Marvin swallows back the immediate distaste that arises in his throat.

 

“Seriously?” He asks Cordelia.

 

Cordelia half laughs and sighs, “After a while, it doesn’t even faze me anymore.”

 

“Do you think it’ll actually work?” He asks.

 

“It usually does.” She responds with a forced-half smile. Almost as if she knows that’s not the answer Marvin wants to hear.

 

Lo and behold, Whizzer arrives at the table with a bright pink drink and an umbrella sticking out of it. Marvin has to hold himself back from grabbing it right out of his annoyingly, unforgettable hands and chucking it into the bay.

 

He sits down right next to Marvin, simultaneously wrapping his mouth around the straw and smirking, not even bothering to say a word.

 

“So, you must be Whizzer.” Charlotte says, an immediate distaste locked in her voice.

 

“Guilty.” He says sighing and setting down his obnoxious drink. “I’m sure Marvin has told you a _lot_ about me.”

 

“Just the fact that he literally saved your life and you had the nerve to complain about it.” She deadpans.

 

Marvin sits completely still, unable to react to the sharp turn this interaction has taken.

 

Whizzer raises his eyebrows with a mix of shock emitting through his eyes and a smile painted on his face.

 

“That’s all he said, huh?”

 

Marvin feels his teeth gritting and his palms start to sweat, unsure if he would dare escalate the conversation to an unnecessary point solely for his own desire to win. Thankfully, though, Cordelia shoots his some sort of look that seemingly gets Whizzer to calm down.

 

“I’m sorry,” Whizzer says, sounding suddenly softer. “I don’t think I caught your name?”

 

They spend the rest of their dinner talking about colleges and their futures and moving day while getting to know one another and sharing horror stories from middle and high school.

 

“Oh, but I will _never_ forget the time in Mr. Ewing’s American History when you had to do a speech on your favorite historical figure and you spent your whole fifteen minutes convincing the class that Amelia Earhart was a lesbian, Cordelia.” Mendel says, trying to hold himself back from laughing too hard.

 

“Didn’t take much convincing when all I presented were rock solid facts.” She responds while throwing a French fry at him. “But hey what about the time in that same class when you wanted to impress Julie Johnson _sooo_ bad that you brought in brownies to share and she had an allergic reaction to the type of flour you used?”

 

“In my defense it was my mom who used that special kosher flour.”

 

“Oh cause that sounds _so_ much better.”

 

While in between their laughter, Marvin almost misses the way Charlotte’s face lights up like a freshly lit candle whenever Cordelia would start a story due to the fact that a lingering hand landed on his knee in the middle of dinner and has remained there, softly drawing patterns on Marvin’s outer thigh with his thumb ever since. Despite trying to remain calm at having contact with the surfer’s strong hands on his body once again, Marvin also does his best not to preen at the fact that Whizzer barely finished half the drink that the bartender gave him.

 

“Well, we should probably get going.” Mendel says after while – they were the only ones left on the deck and the employees were starting to shoot them annoyed looks.

 

“True, well it was so nice meeting you guys.” Charlotte starts as she collects her trash, “We should hang out again something soon.”

 

“Definitely!” Cordelia immediately responds.

 

To Marvin’s dismay, Whizzer removes his hand from his thigh.

 

“We’ll be at the pier tomorrow.” He says, nonchalantly swinging out of the picnic table. “You guys should join us if you aren’t busy.”

 

“That sounds fun!” Charlotte responds, her eyes still glued on Cordelia until turning towards Marvin to confirm. “Right, Marv?”

 

She’s giving him a pleading look – her eyes wide and smile tight.

 

“Yeah, fun.” Marvin says, happy to be able to make Charlotte smile.

 

“Cool, see you two then!” Mendel exclaims as the three of them walk away, except for Cordelia, who turns around one more time and waves at them, well, who is he kidding, waves at Charlotte.

 

“Sooooo.” Marvin says in a happy-go-lucky way, as they throw away their trash and walk towards the parking lot. “They really aren’t _that_ bad, huh?”

 

Charlotte just hums, but Marvin notices the tips of her ears turn a visible red.

 

“Don’t think I didn’t see what was going on there.” She suddenly says, stopping in her tracks when they reach the parking lot.

 

“Uh – I.” Marvin immediately starts to stammer.

 

“I never thought you would be a good matchmaker but... I gotta say, Cordelia is fucking _incredible_.”

 

“Oh,” Marvin says laughing in relief. “I knew you’d love her.”

 

“But that fucking Whizzer.” She continues walking. “Jesus Christ. There’s a special place in heaven for you for saving that son of a bitch.”

 

Marvin lets out a tight laugh, playing along,

 

“Yeah, that _fucking_ Whizzer.”


	6. Unspoken Messages

“Marvin are you fucking kidding me?” Charlotte asks through the phone, the rage in her voice almost tangible.

 

“Charlotte, I’m sorry.” Marvin responds. “He called me to come in and cover a last-minute shift, I’m already on thin ice for being late for covering yours, I can’t risk getting into more trouble.”

 

“Ugh. Fine.” Charlotte spits out, albeit starting to sound a little calmer. “I guess I just won’t go.”

 

“What? You should still go!” Marvin hurriedly assures her. “Don’t let me having to work ruin your fun.”

 

“I don’t know...” She starts. “I don’t really _know_ them.”

 

“Oh please.” Marvin continues. “You and Cordelia will probably be adopting your second child by the end of the night.”

 

“ _HA...._ ugh, you know what?” She starts with a sudden change in tone. “I will. Who cares if they suddenly turn around and murder me? At least the last thing I see will be a beautiful lesbian coming at me with a knife.”

 

“That’s the spirit!” Marvin responds. “Text me later and let me know what you guys decide to name the kid.”

 

“Very funny.” She recuperates. “Bye, Marv.”

 

Marvin sighs in relief when he hangs up the phone and starts to get ready for his shift. He wasn’t necessarily _totally_ honest with Charlotte, he did pick up a shift, but he wasn’t sought out and called in to do it. When one of the lifeguards posted to a groupchat – one that Charlotte is thankfully not in – that he needed a last-minute shift cover since he unexpectedly scored Billy Joel at Madison Square tickets, Marvin saw it as the perfect opt out.

 

He had been panicking since last night about round two of ‘fishing at the pier,’ especially since last time not much fishing happened. Besides, even _if_ Whizzer saw Marvin in any other way besides a friend, it’s probably just another person to flirt with for sport. And Marvin just can’t handle that.

 

\---

 

It’s a pretty quiet evening on the beach; mostly just people strolling along the shoreline and leisurely taking in the colors the sunset paints the sky. Marvin always tried his best to avoid working evening shifts due to a not-so-found memory that occupies his mind when he sees the all too familiar cotton candy colors bouncing off the tides – but so far, it isn’t too bad. He lays back and embraces the slight chill in the breeze and the calamity from the lack of a blazing hot sun.

 

He texted Charlotte about ten minutes ago asking how it all was going, but she hasn’t responded. He’s not exactly sure if he should consider that a good sign or a bad one.

 

“Excuse me?” A little voice shouts up towards Marvin, pulling him out of his thoughts.

 

“Hi, are you okay?” He says looking towards a young boy staring up at him – he couldn’t be any older than four.

 

“Yes!” He responds. “Can I try to sit up on your chair?”

 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Marvin replies hopping down from his stand and lifting the little boy up on the chair.

 

“Mommy, Daddy, look!” The little boy shouts and soon after a young couple comes running towards them.

 

“Wow, look at you!” The dad replies. “You’re the king of the beach.”

 

“Thanks for letting him up there.” The mom says to Marvin.

 

“Of course.” Marvin responds. “Do you guys want to join him? I can take a picture.”

 

“That’d be awesome!” She says, scouring her phone out of her pocket and handing it to Marvin. “Make room, Buddy, we’re coming.”

 

The couple climbs up and grabs ahold of the boy, the smiles plastered on their faces radiating pure delight. As he looks through the screen at the picture-perfect family, he can’t help but feel an ache start to pull at his chest from such a rare sight.

 

“1.. 2.. 3” Marvin counts off before snapping the picture.

 

The family jumps down from the chair and Marvin takes one last look at the magical photograph. It’s amazing how telling photos can be – no picture of he and his parents has ever looked so genuine.

 

“Thanks again.” The mom says to him as he hands her back the phone.

 

And just like that, the tight-knit family continues their lives walking up the shoreline, unaware that some people would give _anything_ to have what they do.

 

Marvin climbs back onto the chair and immediately checks his phone to see if Charlotte has texted him back. Still nothing.

 

He puts his phone back away and sighs as he stares out into the treacherous waters of the Atlantic. It can be crazy to think that across this big body of water is a whole other continent. With other countries. And cultures. And people.

 

“Well.” He hears an annoyingly familiar voice yell below him.

 

He grudgingly looks down, afraid for his eyes to confirm what his ears perceived.

 

“I can’t believe you stood us up.” Whizzer says with Mendel’s surfboard in hand once again.

 

“I’m working.” Marvin monotonously replies. “Not all of us can just screw around all summer.”

 

Whizzer just lets out a curt laugh. “Fine, be that way.”

 

He then puts down the board, strips off his t-shirt, and throws it up towards Marvin.

 

“Let me at least give you a life to actually guard.”

 

Marvin just sits there with Whizzer’s shirt in hand and his mouth agape as Whizzer picks up his board and heads towards the waves.

 

\---

 

Marvin _knows_ what Whizzer is doing. Whizzer knows the beach better than him, he knew nobody else would be in the water at this time, giving Marvin no choice but to just _watch_ him.

 

And honestly... Marvin doesn’t mind just... _watching_.

 

Soon enough it’s 8:30 and his shift is over. Since he has the last shift of the day he has to put everything away until the morning, which means prying his eyes off Whizzer for the first time in a few hours. As he starts to pack up the first aid kit underneath the chair, he feels the presence of the wet surfer looming towards him once again.

 

“Is it time to screw around now?” Whizzer asks, leaning against the leg of the stand.

 

Marvin swallows the immediate shock that arises in his throat at such a crude sounding question, but quickly realizes it’s Whizzer doing what he does best, throwing Marvin’s words right back towards him in a curveball.

 

“Why did you come here tonight?” Marvin straightforwardly asks, the dark beach throwing off his restraint.

 

Even in the moonlight, Marvin notices Whizzer’s face harden. It’s not shocking that he doesn’t know how to handle any other communication style besides flirting.

 

Marvin waits for an answer as he finishes packing up the lifeguarding equipment, but unsurprisingly never receives one. When he looks towards the surfer again, he’s staring fiercely at the ocean biting his lip, and Marvin can’t help but wonder what is going on in that pretty head of his.

 

He isn’t going to wait around to find out, though. He picks up all of the equipment to bring up to the lifeguard hut on the mainland, ready to leave Whizzer to ponder his thoughts in the moonlight by himself.

 

He barely even takes five steps before Whizzer finally retaliates,

 

“I came here because you’re the only one who knows my secret.”

 

Marvin turns around, utterly confused.

 

“What? What secret?”

 

Whizzer doesn’t answer right away, though, instead, he walks closer to him and grabs some of the equipment out of his hands. Marvin has to start to control his breathing, only now remembering that Whizzer is still half-naked and covered in water.

 

“That I hate fishing.” He finally answers, a small smile creeping up on his lips before continuing. “So where are we putting all of this?”

 

They walk up to the hut together and put all of the stuff away in mostly silence. Whizzer compliantly helps, following Marvin’s instructions on how to organize the first aid kits and how to color coordinate the warning flags so the morning shift knows which ones to use. Marvin is shocked that he is never met with one off-hand comment or witty remark. The silence between them doesn’t feel deafening either, it is actually kind of... nice. And this suddenly considerate moment is probably why Marvin agrees to go back to the beach with Whizzer to get his board.

 

“God, it’s such a nice night out.” Whizzer says as he passes his board and walks to the shoreline.

 

Marvin cautiously follows him. He hears the faint call of the tide again, daring him to drown himself within it.

 

Whizzer sits down right where the waves kiss the shore, and suddenly, the tide’s call starts to become louder. Marvin sits down a deliberate few inches away from the still-shirtless surfer.

 

“So,” Whizzer starts, drawing patterns in the sand with his finger. “Why did you become a lifeguard?”

 

There were a lot of ways Marvin could answer this question, but for some reason, he decides to go with the truth.

 

“It’s the best paying job on the island.” He replies, then quickly decides to add. “Plus it’s admirable.”

 

“That’s a lot of dedication for just some extra cash and admiration.” Whizzer remarks.

 

“Yeah, I know.” Marvin says a little more harshly then he intended. He decides to quickly change the subject, not wanting to get too much into his life story.

 

“Listen,” He starts. “You told me a secret, so I guess it’s only fair that I should tell you one of mine.”

 

He turns towards Whizzer for the first time since they’ve been sitting, his eyes wide and bare skin literally glowing in the moonlight. Marvin quickly redirects his attention back to the ocean from such a dangerous sight.

 

“I hate the beach.” He finally reveals.

 

Whizzer remains silent, so Marvin looks towards him again. His facial expression with his mouth open and brow creased could trick anybody into believing Marvin just revealed that he’s a serial killer.

 

“Oh, come on.” Marvin says, already regretting it. “This is why I keep it a secret cause everyone acts like I’m insane.”

  
Whizzer just laughs, finally breaking his silence. “Well you kinda are, and not just for hating the beach, but because of the fact that you literally live and work on it.”

 

“Yeah, well, not for much longer.” He says looking back out to the sea, the day of finally making it across becoming so close.

 

Whizzer’s gaze still remains on Marvin though, he can barely make out the soft sadness in his face – once again seemingly taking his mask off thinking no one is paying attention. But Marvin is.

He turns back towards the surfer who quickly redirects his attention to the small wave touching their feet.

 

“Have you ever tried to surf?” Whizzer asks after a beat, still seemingly transfixed by the wet sand.

 

“No...” Marvin answers. It’s not like his parents were beach people either, so he never got into any of the typical ‘water activities.’

 

Whizzer looks back up, the glow in his eyes doubled due to the moonlight, “You should let me teach you!”

 

Marvin just sits there silently, unsure if this is some sort of joke or power play or –

 

“Please?” Whizzer asks again sounding the most sincere Marvin has heard him yet. “Give me one lesson and I promise I’ll have you standing up by the end of it.”

 

Marvin still doesn’t respond, he simply stares out into the ocean – the tide’s call getting even stronger, _begging_ Marvin to just jump in.

 

“And hey,” Whizzer continues to drive. “Maybe I can help you find _something_ to like about the beach.”

 

Another wave lands at their feet and when the tide pulls the water back in, Marvin feels his self-control go with it.

 

“Okay.” He finally answers. “If it will get you to shut up. One lesson. That’s it.”

 

Whizzer’s smile spreads widely across his face as he scoots his body closer to Marvin and calculatingly lays his hand on his knee,

 

“We’re gonna have so much fun together.”

 

Marvin gulps down his immediate regret as he simply stares at the surfer’s hand placed on him as if staring down a barrel of a gun.

 

“Great.” Marvin barely manages to respond.

 

\---

 

He can’t sleep that night, instead, he’s tossing and turning and staring up at his ceiling questioning what the hell he has gotten himself into. Why he had said yes. _Why_ he had let this boy into his life when Marvin has no room for him.

 

Suddenly, his phone rings, and for a split second, he thinks it’s Whizzer since he gave him his number after – for some fucking reason– agreeing to receive a surf lesson from him.

 

To his relief, though, it’s Charlotte.

 

“Hey,” He answers. “Finally! How was it?”

 

“It was fun.” She replies, yet Marvin immediately notices an edge in her voice. “Cordelia and I are going out again Wednesday.”

 

“What, Charlotte, that’s awesome!” He practically screams. “But what’s wrong?”

 

He hears her sigh, “I’m worried.”

 

“Oh, c’mon there’s nothing to be worried about Cordelia is – ”

 

“Not about Cordelia. Or me.” She says, cutting him off.

 

Marvin sits up and leans against his headboard, suddenly scared about where this conversation is going.

 

“Okay...” He carefully says. “What are you worried about?”

 

“You.” She blatantly admits.

 

Marvin waits for her to elaborate, but of course, she doesn’t.

 

“Why are you worried about me?” He asks, trying to sound as calm as possible.

 

“Listen, Marvin, I’m probably totally off base here...” She says before finally confirming Marvin’s fear, “But... be careful around Whizzer.”

 

“Why?” Marvin asks, suddenly pissed at whatever accusation she might have.

 

“It’s just... I don’t know, as soon as I got to the pier and told them you were working he immediately left to see you.” She hesitates for a minute before adding. “You don’t think that’s weird?”

 

“It’s weird that I have another friend?” He bitterly responds.

 

“That is _not_ what I’m saying.” She continues to defend herself. “But, Cordelia has told me... _things_... and – ”

 

“ _Things_?” He questions.

 

“Ugh, okay, look this isn’t my place to tell you but... he’s gay.”

 

She waits for him to respond, but he doesn’t. He didn’t even realize up until now that Whizzer had never really confirmed whether he was or wasn’t. Nevertheless, the affirmation makes everything just feel... _real_.

 

“Okay?” Marvin finally responds. “And?”

 

“Just be careful.” She repeats. “You know just don’t... lead him on or anything.”

 

There’s an unspoken message in between her choice of words, one that makes Marvin want to chuck his phone into the bay and never speak to anyone about anything again.

 

“Fine.” He hastily replies. “Can I go back to sleep now? It’s fucking 1 A.M.”

 

“Yeah, sorry.” Charlotte responds, the hurt in her voice making Marvin feel even worse. “Goodnight.”

 

She hangs up, and Marvin resumes his position of not sleeping and staring at his ceiling – but this time, with a million more thoughts and questions running through his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you noticed the homage to one of my favorite falsettos fics ever, ily.


	7. Marvin Wins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for subplots.

“Ready... Set... Go!” Marvin’s boss shouts as the lifeguards all dive into the blue waters of the pool and start paddling.

 

Marvin usually hated these ‘bonding exercises’ that the senior lifeguards are required to attend once a month, but right now, he’s grateful for the distraction.

 

He treads water, keeping up with the four other lifeguards lining the lap lanes at the local YMCA trying his best to focus on the dumb contest rather than Whizzer and the situation that he has gotten Marvin into. But even being emerged in abundantly-filled-chlorine water doesn’t stop his thoughts from racing a mile a minute.

 

He paddles to the left and comes up for air

 

_We’re gonna have so much fun together_

He paddles to the right and comes up for air

 

_Be careful around Whizzer._

He reaches the other side of the pool’s wall

 

_Don’t... lead him on or anything_

He roughly pushes off the wall, paddling as hard and as fast as he can across the lap-lane, trying his best to drown out all of the irritating voices that won’t seem to leave his head.

 

He starts to become dizzy from the lack of oxygen intake, scared that the more times he takes in air, reality will shortly follow with it. Suddenly, he is back at the other side of the pool and he hears a whistle blow.

 

“Well, we have a new record today, Marvin places first!” His boss shouts and is followed by a round of applause from his coworkers.

 

Marvin awkwardly smiles and climbs out of the water. Thanking the congratulations he gets from the other lifeguards who he barely knows as he walks towards the locker rooms, still feeling dizzy and desperately needing to catch his breath and organize his thoughts.

 

“Marvin!” He hears Charlotte shout behind him. Instead of turning around, laughing at what a meaningless victory he had just ‘accomplished’ and making sardonic jokes with his best friend like they usually do, he keeps walking, blatantly ignoring her.

 

“ _Marvin!”_ She shouts again, this time with a more matter-of-fact tone, clearly aware that he heard her the first time.

 

He feels her presence follow behind him, so he picks up his pace, so not in the mood to re-discuss their phone conversation that took place a few days ago.

 

As soon as she manages to catch up with him, he reaches the door of the men’s locker room. He opens it and quickly slips in, grateful for the invisible gender border that is about to allow him to continue to ignore confrontation.

 

He walks into one of the showers and pulls the curtain back. He doesn’t even bother to turn the water on – he simply leans his head against the tiled wall and tries to control his breathing. He’s grateful for the makeshift panic room the YMCA public showers provide, the darkness and the quiet helping him calm down and control his body from what feels like a seizure.

 

Once he starts to feel semi-normal again, he leaves his hideout and walks over to the lockers. He opens the one he stuffed his backpack in and pulls out his phone, rereading the texts he has been ignoring for the last seventy-two hours:

 

_Hey it’s Whizzer! Does Thursday evening work for you? The waves will be a little less rough around dusk and fewer people will be there to watch you fail the first couple of times._

_Okay, fine, I shouldn’t have made that fail comment. I’m sure you’ll do fine. Let me know soon so I can tell Mendel and Charlotte that I’m hijacking their boards._

_You know, with the amount of skill I have you should be grateful that I’m offering you this lesson. I should be overcharging you by the hour._

 

_If you gave me a fake number I fucking swear to god._

Marvin gulps down the guilt he feels as he throws his phone back in his backpack, continuing to ignore the pretty surfer’s texts. He quickly throws on his shirt and heads out of the building despite the fact that he is supposed to stay until the end of their bonding activity. Right now, he just physically and mentally cannot be surrounded by the chaos of pretending to enjoy himself and the people around him who he hardly even likes – and he _especially_ can’t be around the one person who he does like, but can somehow read right through him.

 

He gets to his car and immediately heads up route 36. He drives and drives until he somehow ends up on 5th Ave, driving by the vacation rentals one by one until he stops in front of the small gray one labeled Apartment F.

 

He turns off the car engine and sighs, unsure of why or how he ended up here, but knowing that at this point there is no turning back.

 

He gets out of his car and walks up to the door, quickly planning the whole speech in his head – _You’re a great guy, I think you got the wrong impression, I’m not... like you, I_ can’t _be like you, I’m sorry if I led you on..._

He reaches the door, and before he can come to his senses and change his mind, he rings the doorbell.

 

He roughly swallows, already feeling a lump in his throat start to form and his eyes mildly burn as he suddenly he realizes that he is incapable of making such a speech without breaking down.

 

He is about to sprint back to his car and recklessly drive away like a scene from Fast and Furious or some other ridiculous high-speed car racing movie that his dad used to make him watch, but before he can plan his great escape, the girl with the infamous blonde bob paired with her perfect smile answers the door.

 

“Marvin?” She answers, her face mildly shocked but the tone of her voice natural as if this visit is one she has been expecting.

 

“Hey, Cordelia.” Marvin says trying his best to avoid eye contact. “Is – um – is Whizzer here?”

 

“No.” She replies, again, the ease of her voice a little off-putting. “He and Mendel went down to Asbury Park today.” She hesitates for a moment – almost as if there is more she wants to add but decides against it. Instead, she asks,

 

“Is everything okay?”

 

Just the pure genuineness that is woven into her voice physically hurts Marvin, and when his eyes finally meet her own empathetic ones, his guard breaks. Although the tears coming out of his eyes already answer her question, he still manages to shakily respond,

 

“No.”

 

\---

 

“So... nobody knows?” She asks him, handing him another glass of ice water. “Not even Charlotte?”

 

He and Cordelia had been talking on the surprisingly comfortable couch set up in the vacation rental’s living room for about an hour now – Marvin didn’t know if it was the vulnerable state he is in or just Cordelia’s naturally caring demeanor, but he ended up divulging practically _everything_ to this girl who is basically a stranger to him; and he hates to admit it, but he feels _so_ much better.

 

“Nope.” He says, sipping on the cold water that feels heavenly on his sore throat. “I mean... I’ve never told her.”

 

“She didn’t say anything to me.” She responds, leaning over one of the couch cushions. “I don’t think she suspects anything.”

 

“Maybe.” Marvin replies, simply staring down at the ice slowly melting in the cup.

 

“But...” She continues. “Why don’t you tell her? I mean there’s no better person to understand than another gay.”

 

Both of them chuckle at her comment, it surprises Marvin how calm he is being about all of this to the point where he is joking, he definitely understands why Whizzer adores Cordelia so much.

 

“It’s complicated.” He quietly responds. Although he did divulge practically everything, there are still some skeletons in his closet that are remaining under lock and key as long as they can.

 

Cordelia accepts the vague answer, thankfully not pushing for any more information than Marvin is willing to give.

 

“So... Whizzer.” She simply states, hoping that the mere mention of his name will get Marvin to elaborate on his own terms.

 

Instead, he just raises his eyebrow, because, in all honesty, he has no idea what to even say.

 

Cordelia sighs, ultimately deciding to take the reigns. “Look, I know he’s my best friend but...”

 

“I know,” Marvin cuts her off. “Be careful. Charlotte already told me, remember?”

 

“Listen,” Cordelia continues. “I can’t sit here and tell you what to do, Whizzer is a _great_ friend, but once it becomes more than that...”

 

“It’s not going to.” Marvin quickly assures her. “I’m not... ready for that. Plus, gay guys can just be friends too, right?”

 

She half smiles, clearly not 100% convinced by Marvin’s words, but nevertheless appreciating the fact that she isn’t met with any pushback.

 

“Of course.” She responds, then grabs his hand and squeezes it. If anything good came from any of this, it’s this moment right here.

 

“So now that we’re friends...” Cordelia starts. “What did Charlotte think of me? Cause I thought our date went well, but I also talked _a lot_ but, I don’t know, I think she enjoyed listening so – ”

 

“Oh my God, yeah your date!” Marvin had totally forgotten about it.

 

“Oh geez, she didn’t even bring it up?” Cordelia asks, sulking down in the couch.

 

“No, no, no.” Marvin exclaims, “It’s just... I’ve been kinda avoiding her the past couple of days, we haven’t really talked.”

 

“What?” She practically screams. “Well then get off my couch and go talk to her again. She loves you, Marvin, you’re like, her other half.”

 

Marvin feels the guilt tug at his chest. Cordelia is right – it’s about time to get over this irrational anger he’s been carrying around the last few days.

 

“Okay,” Marvin says, setting down his water on the coffee table and standing up from the comfort of the couch. “You’re right, I’m gonna head over to her house right now.”

 

“And then come right back and tell me how she thinks the date went!” She lightheartedly adds as she walks him out.

 

As they reach the front door, which for the first time, Marvin notices has a sign that says _Come Again!_ written in shells, he pauses for a moment. He turns around toward the cute girl with the blonde bob and perfect smile and wraps her in a hug.

 

She sweetly reciprocates, squeezing him so hard that she takes Marvin’s breath away for a moment.

 

“Thank you.” He says softly before letting go.

 

“Of course.” She replies, then quickly kisses his cheek.

 

Marvin sighs a big breath of relief as he opens the door and starts to head to his car, undeniably feeling a hundred pounds lighter than he did when he first got here.

 

“Oh, and Marvin!” Cordelia shouts towards him.

 

He stops in his tracks and turns around back towards the entryway of the vacation rental.

 

“Just let him give you one lesson.” She blatantly calls out, the annoyance in her voice obvious. “I’m tired of hearing him complain about it.”

 

\---

 

It takes Charlotte a grand total of thirty seconds to answer the door and immediately wrap Marvin in her arms.

 

“I’m sorry.” She instantly says.

 

“No,” Marvin says, reciprocating and squeezing her back. “I’m sorry, I overreacted.”

 

“No,” Charlotte continues to fight, still holding onto him. “It was not my place to say anything, you _are_ allowed to have other gay friends.”

 

Marvin laughs and loosens his grip on his best friend.

 

“Let’s just agree that we both suck sometimes and that all is forgiven.”

 

“Deal.” She says with a laugh, as she breaks their intense hug. “Now, can I _please_ tell you about my date with Cordelia?”

 

“Please.” Marvin responds as she leads him into her house.

 

She gushes about Cordelia and their date for a while, it’s adorable how Charlotte observes and admires every little detail of her and the night they had.

 

“So is there going to be a second one?” He carefully asks.

 

“Ugh, I want there to be.” She responds then looks down towards her off-white carpet. “But, like, she lives in New York and she’s only here for a few more weeks...”

 

“Hey.” Marvin immediately intervenes. “Don’t let something as stupid as future time and distance ruin something that is right. You have right now and that’s all that matters.”

 

Her parents then invite Marvin to stay for dinner, which is always music to his ears since it means he doesn’t have to suffer an awkward family dinner with his estranged parents and Charlotte’s mom makes some of _the best_ food Marvin has ever eaten.

 

Soon after, he realizes he should probably head home before his parents become pissed, but as he is saying goodbye to Charlotte and her family, she suddenly remembers to ask,

 

“Oh yeah, are you okay? You left the Y before it ended... I covered for you and told them that you weren’t feeling well.”

 

Oh yeah. Marvin had completely forgotten about skipping out on the bonding exercise, it feels like _years_ ago at this point, even though he’s fully aware it was only a few hours ago.

 

“Thanks.” He responds. “Yeah, winning that race kinda knocked me out, I thought I was gonna pass out.”

 

Not _entirely_ untrue.

 

“Oh right, First Place Winner Marvin is in my presence.” Here come the sardonic jokes, better late than never.

 

“Yes,” He plays along. “I’m sorry who are you again? The fame has gotten to my head, I can’t keep track of everybody that I meet.”

 

She pushes his shoulder with a laugh and Marvin can’t help but feel _even_ lighter. Thank fucking God for Cordelia – he secretly hopes that her and Charlotte will end up together for his own personal benefit.

 

They say their goodbyes and he heads towards his car, ready to go home and pass out from an emotionally exhausting day. As he sits down in the drivers seat and ignites the engine, he realizes there’s one more thing he has to do before he can officially call it a night. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, opens his texts, and presses the call button.

 

After a few rings, he hears a familiar voice answer,

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey, Whizzer, it’s Marvin.”

 

“Ah,” He can practically see the surfer’s smirk through the phone. “So you didn’t give me a fake number. Good to know.”

 

“Does tomorrow evening work for you?” He asks, immediately cutting through the bullshit.

 

“Oh, um,” Whizzer stammers, obviously taken aback by Marvin’s directness. “Yeah, tomorrow works.”

 

“Cool, Lot A at 5:30?” Even Marvin is shocked by this sudden rush of confidence he has.

 

“It’s a date.” Whizzer responds, presumably trying to throw Marvin off, attempting to get the ball back in his court. But Marvin doesn’t allow it, instead, he responds with as much enthusiasm as ever.

 

_“Great.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter
> 
> that's all I'm gonna say.


	8. Let it Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHH (sorry for the 2 week delay i've been crazy busy but i promise you this chapter is worth it!!!)

The day drags by. Marvin tries his best to occupy himself as he works on college arrangements, works out at the gym in the YMCA, and finishes the book his mom got for him, but despite all he does, time still feels like an 100-year-old turtle crossing a four-lane street. Adding to his anxiety, some dark clouds started to form in the sky around 2:30ish and no rain has yet to pour.

 

He checks the weather app again. The 40% chance of rain at 5:30 has gone up to 50%. He gulps and puts his phone down, considering texting Whizzer and rescheduling, but deciding against it – he wants to get this over with. Plus, 50% chance of rain also means there is a 50% chance it _won’t_ rain, right?

 

His fingers have been itching all day to pick up his phone and call Charlotte, but he knows this... thing, whatever it is, would cause suspicion and that is the _last_ thing he wants.

 

He sighs, rocking back and forth in the rocking chair on his deck, unable to sit still from the nerves building up inside of him that he has no way to let out.

 

He checks the time on his phone. 3:59 pm. He slips his phone into his pocket and throws his face into his hands, holding back a scream that would without a doubt cause one of his neighbors to call the police.

He needs to occupy his time with _something_ for the next grueling hour and a half, so he takes out his phone once again and simply Googles ‘ _surfing._ ’ He clicks on one of the first videos that pops up of some surfing contest in Florida and intently watches it.

 

It’s mainly just a lot of older, well-tanned men paddling out, catching waves, then going down when it breaks. None of their techniques are different in any way; in fact, they do the _exact_ same thing that Whizzer does every time Marvin has seen him. Despite this, the video pans to the sand crowded with tons of people, all watching and cheering along every time someone gets on their feet. The video then shows them interviewing little kids, practically all of them saying that they hope to be in this surfing contest one day. Their toothless grins and sunburned faces radiate such an innocent joy that Marvin can’t help but smile. When the winners are announced, the most striking thing Marvin notices is how the person who placed tenth and the person who placed first have the same size smile. They all hug and congratulate each other, using surfer terminology that he has heard once or twice while on duty before. Then the video comes to an end.

 

Happiness. That’s what this seemingly pointless activity that Marvin has always rolled his eyes at provides.

 

_“I have yet to find an experience other than surfing that makes me feel so alive.”_

 

Marvin recalls those words coming out of a not-so-sober Whizzer’s mouth when he was busy staring at his lips. Maybe Whizzer doesn’t have some sort of vendetta to make Marvin’s life miserable, maybe, just maybe, he wants to share this experience that brings him genuine happiness.

 

Marvin continues to Google, trying to learn every little thing about surfing that he can to prepare before 5:30.

 

\---

 

He pulls up to Lot A at a calculated time of 5:36. Trying his best to play nonchalant and act like the last couple of hours went by normally, that each tick of the clock _didn’t_ feel like an explosion with every passing moment up until the time they had agreed upon.

 

Marvin parks his car and starts heading towards the beach, the pit of fear and excitement in his stomach only growing larger with each step he takes. As he reaches the sand, he starts to scan the beach for Whizzer, but to Marvin’s dismay, he doesn’t see him.

 

He immediately assumes the worst, wondering if he is getting stood up on this non-date and hating the fact that he might have forced his bare feet onto the sticky sand for the first time in years with no compensation. His stomach begins to twist with anger as he walks closer and closer to the shoreline with no sign of the pretty surfer in sight, his blood boiling at the thought of all of the worrying and research spent today ending up being for nothing.

 

“Marvin!” He hears a familiar voice shout from further south of the shoreline.

 

He turns to see a shirtless Whizzer waving his hands with two boards laying flat at his feet.

 

Marvin roughly swallows the salty air, his anger diminishing and reverting back into his state of nervousness and excitement as he starts walking towards the surfer. He passes the lifeguard stand, carefully checking to see who is on duty. Luckily it’s some freshman lifeguard who Marvin doesn’t recognize and seemingly doesn’t seem to recognize Marvin, as she just shoots him a half-smile as he walks by.

 

When he reaches Whizzer he tries his best to maintain eye contact and not let his line of focus drop down to his bare chest which is undoubtedly much more prominent when the Sun is out.

 

“Hey.” He greets him. “I figured we’d start over here since the current is going to drift us north anyway.”

 

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Marvin lies.

 

“Hopefully it won’t start raining on us.” Whizzer says, dropping to his knees and starting to wax the boards.

 

Marvin looks up, the clouds from earlier have only grown and gotten darker.

 

“But if it does this is still the only lesson.” Marvin intensely drives. “Rain or shine. One lesson only.”

 

Whizzer just looks up at him not even bothering to say a word, let alone stop waxing his board, Marvin notices his eyes glow and his smirk as eminent as ever before returning his focus back below him.

 

There’s a bit of silence between the two before Marvin decides to ask out of curiosity,

 

“Sex wax?”

 

“Excuse me?” Whizzer says, this time completely stopping waxing as he looks up towards Marvin, clearly thrown off.

 

“The brand.” Marvin points toward the bar of wax in the surfer’s hand. “Is it Sex Wax?”

 

“Oh,” Whizzer says as he quickly looks back down, although Marvin can see the redness aligning the tips of his cheeks. “No, it’s some natural brand Cordelia swears by.”

 

“Ahh okay.” Marvin replies clearly smiling and enjoying the feeling of having the authorial roles reversed for once.

 

When Whizzer finishes waxing, he hands Cordelia’s board to Marvin and they head towards the waters of the Atlantic. When they reach waist level water, Whizzer has him practice sitting on the board and balancing. It’s hard, mainly because the current is rougher than usual due to the weather, but sure enough, Marvin gets the hang of it.

 

They then lay flat and start to slowly paddle over the white water waves until they reach the calm of the current. This is probably only the second or third time Marvin had been in this part of the ocean and he can’t help but notice how particularly calming it is. He sits up on the board, leisurely takes it in – there’s no other place he has been to, especially on the beach, that is so tranquilizing.

 

“Right?” Whizzer says after a beat, reading Marvin’s mind. “This is my favorite part.”

 

“Yeah.” Marvin agrees. “It’s almost as if we’re on the outside of the world looking in.”

 

Whizzer looks over at Marvin, his eyes are soft and his lips are parted, and the whole thing makes Marvin feel things that he _knows_ he shouldn’t be feeling.

 

Whizzer paddles slightly closer to him as Marvin just remains in position completely still. He almost forgets that they’re sitting in the middle of the ocean when Whizzer lays his hand on Marvin’s board and leans his half-naked body closer to him.

 

Whizzer leans into Marvin’s neck and sends such intense chills down his spine, Marvin can’t help but to close his eyes and lose his focus – that is until he hears Whizzer whisper.

 

“ _Go_.”

 

Suddenly he’s being pushed into a huge forming wave – he feels as if he’s waking up from a beautiful dream and realizing he’s in an awful nightmare.

 

“Marvin! Paddle!” He hears Whizzer’s voice shout behind him.

 

He frantically starts to paddle but it’s too late, the wave takes him captive as he goes tumbling under. The board periodically smacks him as he desperately maintains holding his breath underneath the rapid currents until he reaches the shoreline and is able to finally gasp for oxygen again.

 

When he reaches land he starts to cough, the salty water around his neck and in his throat feeling as if it’s strangling him.

 

“Marvin, oh my god, are you okay?” Whizzer asks running up behind him.

 

“What the _fuck_ was that?” Marvin screams while still coughing. He undoes the surfboard leash around his ankle and storms off towards the dry sand, all while still fairly out of breath.

 

“You were _supposed_ to paddle!” Whizzer screams towards him while grabbing the board Marvin carelessly left in the shallow water.

 

“Well I thought – ” Marvin starts, turning to face him when Whizzer catches up behind him. He quickly stops midsentence. Partly because he’s still out of breath but mainly because admitting what he thought was going to happen in that moment is now completely irrelevant.

 

“Nevermind. Just, whatever, the lesson is over. I’m going home now.” Marvin says as he starts walking back towards the mainland.

 

“Oh come on, Marvin,” Whizzer says putting down his boards and following after him. “Don’t be a sore loser, nobody gets up on their first try.”

 

“Yeah but I’m sure nobody else’s instructor tries to _drown_ them either.” He responds continuing to walk as far away from the water as he can.

 

“It’s a technique!” Whizzer continues to defend himself, still following Marvin up the sand. “It’s supposed to be a natural thing, it worked on me.”

 

“Well, I’m not _LIKE_ you!” Marvin practically screams as he stops and turns around to face the tall surfer.

 

The comment goes beneath surfing and Marvin knows Whizzer knows it. The way his face falls and mouth turns into a thin line is proof that Marvin struck a nerve that Whizzer rarely lets anyone get to.

 

“Fine.” Whizzer replies, then spitefully adds when Marvin turns back around to continue storming off to the parking lot, “But I disagree.”

 

Marvin’s skin is basically burning hot with rage. He knows he needs to get as far away from the beach and the sand and the rough waves and the surfer who adores it all so much as soon as possible to cool off.

 

But like a cruel joke, cold rain finally starts to pour down on them – the universe seemingly answering Marvin’s request to cool down.

 

“Fuck.” Whizzer exclaims running back to get his boards. “Cordelia and Mendel can’t pick me up for another hour.”

 

Marvin turns back around, simply standing there in the pouring rain with his arms crossed as Whizzer returns to where they were – huge surfboards under his arms and soaking wet from head to toe. Marvin hates how fucking hot he looks.

 

“Is there something you want to ask me?” Marvin preens.

 

Whizzer’s face twists before carefully responding,

 

“I mean... if you want to drive me.”

 

“What’s the magic word?” Marvin asks - this sudden gain of power distracting him from the fact that he’s literally shivering from the cold rain and wind.

 

“Please.” Whizzer spits out after a moment, also shivering and completely unamused.

 

In the piercing rain and heavy wind, they walk up to Marvin’s car and put the two boards in his trunk. As the two file into the driver’s and passenger’s seats, Marvin hesitates for a minute before turning on the ignition, transfixed by the intense rain hitting his windshield.

 

“Are you going to murder me?” Whizzer asks quite monotonously after Marvin doesn’t do anything.

 

Marvin lets out a laugh. “If I did would you blame me?”

 

Whizzer just sits there staring at him – his eyes wide – truly unsure if these were his last moments.

 

“Let’s wait for the weather to clear up a little bit.” Marvin says, leaning back into his seat.

 

Some silence goes by as the two of them lay down on the not-so-comfortable Camry seats, the rain continuing to come down hitting the windshield as hard as ever. Marvin decides to be the one to break the stillness.

 

“I think it’s too late for me.”

 

“Huh?” Whizzer says over the sound of the rain hitting the car.

 

“Trying to... surf. At my age.” Marvin indistinctly answers. “I don’t think it’s realistic.”

 

Whizzer turns his body on his side towards him.

 

“I think that’s bullshit.” He says. “If you really want something you can do it at any age, it’s never too late.”

 

Marvin makes the mistake of turning his head and looking over at Whizzer. His wet hair drooping into his eyes and his bare chest still covered in rain droplets – the humidity starts to build up in the car and the rain plummets down even _harder_ – all furthering to the out of body experience he is having.

 

Suddenly, Marvin’s hand lands right below Whizzer’s jaw and he feels Whizzer’s breath diminish. Whizzer stares at him as wide-eyed as ever, wondering what Marvin will dare to do next. Marvin slowly moves his hand up to the surfer’s ear and starts to lightly caress it with his fingers, wanting to savor every detail of this moment, knowing that as soon as the rain stops he has to return to reality. But right now, right now he can pretend that the world doesn’t exist, that no one else exists, that all that matters is right now in this car parked in an empty beach parking lot.

 

“Marvin.” Whizzer softly speaks.

 

Marvin just stares down at his lips, afraid to speak.

 

Whizzer leaves Marvin’s grip, quickly maneuvering over to the driver side and straddling onto Marvin’s lap.

 

He slowly, deliberately rubs his hands down Marvin’s own bare chest which causes him to have to hold back a filthy sound that immediately jumps to the back of his throat. Whizzer’s hands then move up into Marvin’s wet hair before leaning his lips down to hover over Marvin’s own.

 

“If you really want something,” He reiterates. “It’s never too late.”

 

Marvin leans forward, allowing their lips to meet and explore each other’s own – the sound of the rain being a perfect barrier of reality. They stay there, embracing in the moment as much as in each other, existing in their own little world that Marvin wants to live in and soak up for as long as he can.


	9. Surprise

“Marvin, it was so cute.” Charlotte says while digging her spoon into the cookie dough ice cream they were sharing while sitting on the pier overlooking the huge ferryboat as it sways back and forth in the bay’s current.

 

“And her lips tasted like strawberries,” She continues. “It might have been from the fact that she ordered strawberry ice cream, but still it was just per-... Marvin. Are you even listening?”

 

“Yeah,” He says redirecting his attention from the boat towards Charlotte. “Lips tasted like raspberries.”

 

“Strawberries.” She matter-of-factly corrects him before sticking her spoon into the ice cream that Marvin has barely touched. “What’s going on with you?”

 

 _Oh, well, you know that surfer who I hate and you hate and everyone who meets him hates? I made out with him in my car two nights ago in the pouring rain and it was so hot and his body felt so good and his tongue is so_ so _talented. Seriously, I don’t know why anyone else was even given a tongue when Whizzer’s tongue exists. But that was two nights ago, and I’m not sure if I should text him? Or wait for him to text me? Or just hop off this pier and hope that I drown? All I know is I want to have that tongue again licking down my –_

“Marvin?” Charlotte asks again, pulling him out of his daze.

 

“I’m fine.” He mutters out, grabbing the ice cream and shoving a spoonful in his mouth. “I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

 

“Ohh,” Charlotte says with a seemingly understanding tone. “I get it.”

 

Marvin just nods not thinking too much of her response – just glad that her questioning has ceased.

 

“So, Cordelia’s lips – ”

 

She continues to go on about their date and their perfect first kiss while Marvin half listens. His thoughts frequently drifting to Whizzer and what happened in his car – his _car_ for crying out loud, he can’t even drive away without getting a boner.

 

They didn’t go very far, but it was enough to make Marvin realize what he has been missing all of his life. It was enough to make him realize that he wanted more. It was enough to solidify any confusion he had about his sexuality for the past couple of years.

 

The question is – now what? He silently wishes that all of this was as simple as Charlotte and Cordelia. Two happy-go-lucky lesbians sharing a first kiss over strawberry ice cream – it all sounds so magical and pure. But he and Whizzer are far too damaged, far too _greedy_ to have something like that. For all he knows, Whizzer could’ve just been bored. Marvin could have been anyone else in that car, and Whizzer probably would’ve done the same thing.

 

“I _really_ like her, Marvin.” He suddenly hears Charlotte say. “You know I’ve always said long distance relationships are stupid, but now, I think I would do it. For her.”

 

Marvin drapes his arm around her and pulls her close before saying,

 

“Whatever makes you happy. You deserve happiness, Charlotte.”

 

“Thank you, Marv.” She says leaning into him.

 

Marvin stares towards the ferryboat swaying back and forth in the bay, and for the first time ever, is unsure of what path entails happiness for him.

 

\---

 

Marvin sits on the lifeguard stand overlooking the cotton candy sunset on the empty beach. It’s a chilly evening to the point where he has to wear a sweatshirt, so it’s to no surprise that nobody is swimming in the cold waters of the Atlantic.

 

“Marvin!” He hears the voice of his boss call out from behind him.

 

He’s been working for this guy for four years and he still can’t get over how intimidating he is. He speaks like an old, gruff sailor who has somehow survived being a heavy smoker for decades.

 

“Go home, you work too hard. No one’s coming anyway, it’s too cold. I’ll close up.”

 

“A-are you sure?” Marvin asks. “I don’t mind – ”

 

“Go home, Marv.” He sternly repeats.

 

Marvin doesn’t fight him again. He jumps down from the stand and takes his sign off to put back in the hut. Obviously, he’d rather be wrapped up in his bed than on the beach in the cold, but working serves as a distraction from, well, _everything_.

 

He puts his sign away then starts to shower off all of the sand. It’s brutal when the ice cold water hits his skin in the cold air, but it’s better than dragging any sand into his car and ultimately everywhere else.

 

As he finishes washing off and starts to walk to his car, he feels his phone start to vibrate in his pocket, he reaches for it and his heartbeat immediately heightens when he reads the name of the caller.

 

“H – uh – Hello?” He answers as casually as he can.

 

“Hey, Marvin.” Whizzer doesn’t even miss a beat. “Cordelia and Mendel aren’t home right now.” He then finally pauses for a moment before adding. “Do you want to come over?”

 

 _Oh my god._ Marvin thinks, is this a proposition or, oh god, a booty call? Is this what it has come down to? Whenever the pretty surfer is bored, Marvin is the warm mouth that keeps him entertained? He could be a little more _discreet_ , have a little more _respect_ , honestly, Marvin has too much dignity for this –

 

“Sure!” He answers probably way too giddy. “I’m just about to leave work.”

 

“Okay, cool.” Whizzer responds before hanging up. “See you soon.”

 

And just like that, Marvin hops into his car without any type of second thought or hesitation. He practically speed races down 36 to Fifth Ave, almost hitting a huge group of tourists with visors on their heads and cameras draped around their necks in the process.

 

He pulls up to the gray apartment labeled _Apartment F_ and when finally stopping the car, his nerves hit him all at once. His stomach feels like it’s filled with thousands of butterflies and his head feels like it’s on one of the rides on the boardwalk that spins and spins and never stops fucking spinning. He steps out of his car, his legs feeling numb to the point where he practically marches up to the door to gain feeling again. Thoughts run through his head, the most prominent one hoping that it won’t be too obvious that he’s never done... _stuff_ like this with another guy.

 

He tentatively knocks. Oh fuck, what should he say?

 

_Hey, you did great last time, let's do more now?_

Too vague.

 

_Hey, you have a very talented tongue you should give me a blowjob?_

Too direct.

 

Before he can figure it out, Whizzer answers the door. He’s wearing a _Sea Bright, NJ_ tank top and ripped jeans, and for some reason, that alone turns Marvin on.

 

Whizzer doesn’t even say anything; he simply steps aside, allowing Marvin to walk in.

 

“How was work?” Whizzer quietly asks as he and Marvin walk into the living room.

 

“Cold.” Marvin answers. “I got to leave early.”

 

“Well,” He responds, pushing Marvin down onto the familiar couch. “Lucky me.”

 

He straddles on top of him, just like they were in the car, and it’s like no time has passed at all. Whizzer’s warm mouth feels so good pressed up against Marvin’s lips that have been in the cold for the last hour. His hands go underneath the surfer’s tank top as he explores the familiar back muscles and preens at the way they twitch when Marvin twists his tongue a certain way.

 

Whizzer finds his way to Marvin’s jawline and neck, sucking and kissing on the sensitive areas as Marvin relaxes into it all and simply hopes they won’t leave any type of bruising or mark – it all feeling too good to actually ask him to stop. Whizzer reaches underneath Marvin’s sweatshirt and strips it off, allowing for more skin to meet his lips as he starts to make his way towards his collarbone. Marvin can’t help but feel the irony that this is all happening on the same couch where he promised Cordelia this _wouldn’t_ happen.

 

Their lips meet again and before he even realizes it happens, Whizzer’s hand dips into Marvin’s bathing suit bottoms, groping him.

 

 _“Oh.”_ Marvin shouts – not necessarily in a bad sounding way, but not in a _good_ way either, just taken by surprise by how low hands went so quickly.

 

Whizzer sits up, his eyes wide with worry.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry if that’s not – ”

 

“No.” Marvin cuts him off. “I mean, yes, but...”

 

It’s clear to the both of them in this moment their differences in experience, Whizzer slides off of Marvin’s lap, simply sitting next to him on the couch.

 

“Look, Marvin, this is fun... but I don’t want to make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” Whizzer says. “Especially if I’m the first...”

 

He trails off, almost like he’s too scared to say the end of that sentence out loud and make everything more real.

 

Marvin looks at the hot surfer – his hair a mess, his face flushed, his lips red and swollen, and the only words he can think of saying in a situation like this leave his lips,

 

“Let’s go upstairs.”

 

Whizzer’s smirk quickly returns as he grabs Marvin’s hand and they run up the creaky staircase. When they reach the second floor Marvin swiftly pins Whizzer up to the wall and starts to kiss his neck, wanting to show him this is _exactly_ what he wants – what he _needs_. His skin tastes like salt, which makes Marvin even _hungrier_ , he starts to devour him, stripping off his tank top and taking his time with each imperfection and freckle on his sun-kissed skin. Whizzer moans, which makes Marvin’s own groin jump, but he doesn’t let it distract his focus, wanting to take every part of him in, completely entranced by this tourist and his beautiful salty exterior.

 

Whizzer grabs ahold of Marvin and leads him into the bedroom, they continue to kiss and grope and moan until Whizzer slams the door and pushes Marvin onto his uncomfortable yet familiar mattress.

 

\---

 

“Wow.”

 

Is the first word, besides the occasional profanity they were shouting out, that is spoken in hours.

 

Neither of them can pinpoint who says it because they are honestly both thinking it.

 

A bit more time passes and Marvin asks in a daze,

 

“When are Cordelia and Mendel coming back?”

 

“Probably soon.” Whizzer answers.

 

“I should get going then.” Marvin responds, scanning the room for his clothes.

 

Whizzer doesn’t necessarily agree nor does he fight for him to stay, he just simply responds,

 

“Okay, yeah.”

 

Marvin gets dressed and Whizzer slips on his underwear before walking him back downstairs. As they walk down he can’t help but to wonder – what’s next? Are they gonna do this again? Is he gonna ever see Whizzer again?

 

“Oh, don’t forget!” Whizzer finally speaks as they reach the bottom of the stairs. He runs to the living room and hands him his sweatshirt that ended up on the floor.

 

“Thanks.” Marvin awkwardly says. He starts to walk towards the front door but then turns back around towards the practically naked surfer. “So, was that it? I – I mean, I don’t mean it like... _it_ because that was fucking amazing, but, is that it for... us?”

 

Marvin immediately regrets how needy he suddenly sounds and starts to panic when Whizzer’s face drops,

 

Cordelia’s words start to echo in Marvin’s mind: _Whizzer is a_ great  _friend, but once it becomes more than that..._

“Look, Marvin, I think you’re great but...”

 

“No, I know, I don’t... want anything more.” He says, trying to find the words that he assumes Whizzer wants to hear. “But can we... do that again?”

 

“Oh.” Whizzer says and to Marvin’s relief his face lights back up. “Yeah of course. Anytime, Marv.” His hands drape around Marvin’s waist and deliberately linger to his ass. “I’d gladly do that again.”

 

Marvin grabs the back of Whizzer’s neck planning to pull him in and leave him with one last impression when suddenly, the front door swings open and they hear a bubbly voice shout,

 

“Hello! – Oh.”

 

A wide-eyed and jaw-opened Cordelia and Mendel stare back at a fully-dressed and a not-dressed-at-all Marvin and Whizzer who just pulled away from each other as quickly as possible.

 

“Hey, guys.” Whizzer greets them, sounding as normal as ever. “Marvin just came by to get back his sweatshirt that I borrowed a few nights ago.”

 

“Hey, Marvin.” Mendel says, clearly falling for – or just not caring about –Whizzer’s well thought out lie and walking up the stairs.

 

Cordelia, however, stands there silently with her arms crossed, her usual lovable demeanor completely diminished into what seems like a mix of anger and disappointment.

 

Marvin takes that as his cue to leave.

 

“I’ll see you guys later.” Marvin says, trying to get out of there as quickly as possible.

 

“Marvin.” Cordelia firmly states, walking into the living room and picking up his phone he had totally forgotten about on the couch. Before she dramatically hands it back she announces, “Looks like someone’s been trying to get in touch with you. Trina?”

 

His heart drops. No, not yet, it’s too early, why is she –

 

“Who’s Trina?” Whizzer asks, clearly curious from the way Marvin's face turns as pale as a ghost.

 

Marvin vigorously grabs the phone out of Cordelia’s hand and reads the notifications:

 

 

_Surprise, I’m home! I’m on my way back from the airport right now! Can’t wait to see you :)_

_Text me as soon as you get off work, let’s celebrate._

_Marvin? I’m pulling into my driveway. Your shift should’ve ended an hour ago, are you okay?_

_Hello??? Marvin, I’m worried where are you? I just wanted to be with you after my 12-hour flight :(_

_5 missed calls from Trina._

 

 

He gulps down the sudden inflammation in his throat, he feels like someone is choking him – and not in a good way like in Whizzer’s bed an hour or so ago.

 

“She’s my girlfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dunnn.


	10. Everything Will Be Alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for waiting. college is crazy. enjoy.

Marvin met Trina during their sophomore year of high school. She was in Charlotte’s AP Bio class and they were lab partners. For some reason, maybe because of the fact that Marvin was and still is deeply closeted, Charlotte was determined to set them up. Eventually, Marvin ran out of excuses and they went on an awkward first date to the boardwalk. The twenty tickets he could afford allowed them to go on six rides total and the cotton candy they overpaid for was too dry, but the night was still enjoyable. Marvin quickly came to realize why Charlotte wanted to set them up. Trina is sweet in an adorably humble way. She thanked every carnie after the two of them would exit a ride and ate the gross cotton candy with a smile even though it was probably expired. She is also super interesting. While they sat on the pier, she was able to talk about things with Marvin besides just their school and the beach. She talked about the city and traveling the world and wanting to live a life of purpose. Marvin discovered that night that she also dreamed of moving to the city after high school. As the night came to an end and Marvin pulled up to her house to drop her off, she leaned in and kissed him. He felt nothing. But Trina pulled away with her eyes gleaming and her smile wide. From that night on, he has pushed down the feeling of numbness when their lips touch or when they hold hands and complacently stands at her side and calls her his girlfriend – even when the word feels like sandpaper scratching his tongue.

 

As he drives towards Trina’s house, a ride he has done thousands of times before, the feeling of numbness is nowhere to be found. Instead, he’s shaking and his hands are gripping the steering wheel so hard that they are becoming a ghostly white. When he practically ran out of the vacation rental, he texted her some bullshit that his shift ran late and he was heading over ASAP – he just hopes that she won’t be able to automatically tell that that’s a _huge_ lie and he actually just fucked someone else.

 

He pulls into the neighborhood in the town of Rumson and passes the esteemed Bruce Springsteen mansion. Trina’s neighborhood is so nice that on their second date they literally just walked around and snuck into Springsteen’s backyard until some gatekeeper threatened to call the police.

 

He turns his car into her paved driveway and forces himself to take a deep breath and calm down.

 

 _Just breathe._ He tells himself. _She’s not going to be able to tell._

He makes his way towards the door and before he can even knock, Trina opens it and jumps into his arms. He buries his face into her familiar hair, feeling a twinge of guilt that the feeling of regret is still nowhere inside of him, even when holding his girlfriend of three years.

 

“I missed you.” She says as she pulls away, then quickly kisses him chastely.

 

“I missed you too.” He says, even though he didn’t reciprocate the kiss.

“Is that Marvin I hear?” Trina’s dad’s voice booms across the house.

 

Trina widely smiles, she always loved the fact that her parents seem to adore him just as much as she does, she proceeds to interlock their fingers as they walk inside.

 

She doesn’t question him about missing her texts and calls for hours. To Marvin’s obvious appreciation, Trina has always been one to easily dismiss things like that. Over the years, Marvin has learned that she likes the image of the perfect boyfriend and the perfect relationship and if that means ignoring Marvin’s flaws, so be it. Plus, he’s never really done anything that would completely step outside of that image.

 

Well, until now.

 

“How was Europe?” He asks as he and Trina sit on the loveseat on the opposite side of her parents sitting on the large leather couch.

 

“Absolutely wonderful.” Her mother responds. She goes on about visiting the Zaandam Windmills in Amsterdam, the coffee shops and the train rides through the Netherlands, visiting the Anne Frank house for their sixth time and getting a special, private tour through Auschwitz, Flossenbürg, and Ebensee.

 

“I so wish you could’ve joined us, Marvin.” She says after finishing her recap of their prestigious vacation.

 

Marvin thinks about experiencing the affluent hotel rooms and train rides with Trina and her family. Walking through the concentration camps and learning more about his history and culture than ever before. Hiking through the beautiful, untouched paths of Amsterdam and drinking coffee that costs ten US dollars. Trina by his side and gripping his hand as hard as she is now.

 

And the whole scene makes Marvin’s stomach turn.

 

“Me too.” He says as enthusiastically as possible. Trina squeezes his hand, almost as an unspoken signal to communicate ‘ _yes, right answer_.’

 

“So, Marvin,” Trina’s dad speaks. “Did Trina tell you why we’re back early?”

 

_Nope, just that it was the worst possible timing he has ever experienced in his life._

“No, not yet.” He says looking towards Trina who has an excited smile painted on her face, seemingly chomping at the bit to tell him something.

 

“Well,” Trina’s dad continues. “When we were overseas the board of housing at NYU contacted me.”

 

Marvin sits up straighter, holding his breath. His attention completely divided to Trina’s dad’s words.

 

“The residence halls above Central Park got two openings... And guess who were the first two on the waitlist.”

 

Marvin’s jaw drops. Housing in midtown Manhattan. Above central park. In the center of the world’s primal destination. Him, across the sea. Living in the heart of New York City. His _dream_.

 

“Sir, I – I don’t know what to say...” He barely speaks, his mouth completely dry. “I’m not sure if my financial aid will cover that type of housing though...” Originally, the housing he was assigned to that fit his financial aid budget was in Washington Heights - quite a few blocks away from midtown.

 

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Marv.” Trina says, slightly giggling at his shocked expression.

 

“Whatever your financial aid won’t pay for,” Her dad says sipping on his glass of wine. “We will cover.”

 

Marvin’s whole body goes completely still. He can feel his heart beating against his chest wall to the point where he feels like it’s going to explode.

 

“You can fight us all you want but the decision is made.” Her mom adds, obviously taking note of Marvin’s reaction. “Like Trina said, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Plus, you two living in the same building will help you guys out with the transition into the city.”

 

“But don’t be getting any funny ideas.” Her dad points his figure at him with the same hand that is holding his wine glass. “I made sure that they have the strictest RA’s working inside.”

 

“ _Dad_.” Trina responds as she rolls her eyes and her cheeks flush pink.

 

Marvin finally manages to break his silence. “I don’t know what else to say but...”

 

He looks towards Trina, her face so delighted and her eyes literally emitting love. He looks towards her parents who look at him like he’s the-son-they-never-had, so pleased that they are making the boy who Trina is in love with’s dreams come true. He can see in the back of their minds that they’re already planning the wedding and the reception and the baby shower and everything else after and in between.

 

None of them have the slightest inkling as to where or who Marvin was with less than an hour ago. None of them having any idea that the answer to those two words would break the fragile look of love in all of their eyes and their perfectly written-in-the-stars future for them instantly.

 

“Thank you.” He quietly starts. “Thank you, I, I’m just so, thank you.”

 

“Get over here!” Trina’s mom stands up and Trina lets go of Marvin’s hand for the first time since he arrived at her house.

 

Her mom embraces Marvin into a tight hug, the familiar feeling of numbness returning inside of him once again.

 

Her dad pats his back and shakes Marvin a bit.

 

“We’re proud of you, son.” He says.

 

Marvin just nods his head, unable to compose any words to this man who is literally allowing for his unthinkable dreams to come true.

 

“So, you guys came home early to tell me this?” He wearily asks. “I know overseas phone data can be pricy but I could’ve waited a few more weeks...”

 

“No, Marv.” Trina says giggling and grabbing ahold of his arm once again. “The midtown housing move-in date is in mid-August.”

 

Mid-August? That’s in _four_ weeks.

 

“That soon?” He asks, the fear in his voice palpable.

 

“Yes, but don’t worry.” Her mom assures him. “We’re gonna talk to your parents and the housing board and get it all straightened out so we can have everything ready in time.”

 

“O-Okay, I’m just... gonna miss a month and a half of lifeguarding that I had left.” He always despised the job but now the thought of it suddenly being taken away from him makes him feel... sad.

 

“We can always take the ferry in on the weekends and visit.” Trina assures him, caressing his back. “Maybe you can still pick up shifts on the weekends until classes officially start?”

 

“That’s true.” Marvin says quickly changing his tone, not wanting to sound ungrateful for what they are doing for him. Plus this all means that he is making it across the sea faster than he thought, that should be a good thing... right?

 

They all continue to chat for a while, discussing Marvin and Trina’s plans for their studies and the clubs and organizations that they are going to join and Trina’s mom not so subtly pushing the idea of Trina joining the Delta Gamma sisterhood that she was a part of all those years ago.

 

“Well, I should get going. Tell my parents the good news.” Marvin states after all of the college talk starts to make him more anxious than excited.

 

He says his goodbyes and a few last thank you’s to Trina’s parents a.k.a Marvin’s new financial guarantors.

 

Trina walks him out, their hands intertwined like they have been all night. Trina has always been clingy, but tonight it was at a new level, it felt like she was desperately holding onto him and had a fear of letting him free.

 

They reach his car and she starts to kiss him, Marvin reciprocates ignoring the prevalent numbness he feels. He allows his mind to drift to the lips he was kissing _inside_ of his car a mere three nights ago and the numbness starts to fade ever so slightly.

 

After a minute or so, she pulls away, and even though the sun is set and it’s dark outside, Marvin can still see her wide smile and gleaming eyes in the moonlight – just as they were the night of their first kiss.

 

“There’s something I should tell you.” The words leave his lips before his brain can yell at him to stop.

 

Trina’s smile drops and her eyes lose their glow, her face immediately grows concerned.

 

“What’s wrong?” She softly asks.

 

“A lot has happened since you’ve been gone...”

 

He should tell her the truth. He should stand up to her and be honest and allow himself to stop living a lie, allow her to stop pretending. If he’s honest now, it’ll still hurt, she will still be fucking pissed, her parents will probably try to have him killed, but it will be the _right_ thing to do.

 

“Marv... you’re scaring me.” Trina replies to his vague comment as she grips onto his hand tighter.

 

He roughly swallows.

 

“Charlotte has a girlfriend.”

 

Then again, when has Marvin ever done the _right_ thing?

 

“Oh my gosh!” She immediately perks up again. “That’s amazing, who is she?”

 

“Her name is Cordelia. She’s a tourist – from New York, super sweet, you’re gonna love her.”

 

“Good for Charlotte.” Trina happily replies. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

 

She doesn’t mention the fact that he obviously scared her. She brushes it off. She persists on. She maintains their perfect image.

 

“Well, goodnight, Marvin. I love you.” She quickly kisses his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“I love you too.” He replies. And he does. In his own, weird, fucked up way, he does love her. Just not in the way she is able to love him.

 

 

\---

 

_We need to talk._

He texts Whizzer the next morning while getting ready for a run before his 10 A.M. shift that he was able to pick up last minute.

 

He half expects for Whizzer to just completely ignore him or to at least ghost him for a day or two. Although he did run out of his vacation rental as fast as he possibly could after announcing the daunting news that he was, in fact, in a relationship with a female, he still managed to catch the distraught look on Whizzer’s face.

 

To his shock though, Whizzer texts him about halfway through Marvin’s mile long run.

 

_Okay. We’ll be surfing all day so feel free to stop by._

Marvin rolls his eyes and forcefully sticks his phone back into his pocket. _“Feel free to stop by.”_ Like this is a fucking business meeting and the beach is his own private office. Whizzer may be hot, but it’s not easy to forget that he’s still a huge asshole.

 

When Marvin arrives back at his own house after his run, he texts Whizzer back.

 

_I’m actually on duty at 10. Let’s talk after._

He holds his phone tightly with a million thoughts and questions running through his mind. He wonders what Whizzer is going to ask, what Marvin is going to answer.... What’s going to happen next? Is this how it’s all going to end? Is he willing to _actually_ end his three-year relationship and dream future for this? For... him?

 

His phone buzzes and it nearly sends him into cardiac arrest. He reads the new text from Whizzer lighting up his screen.

 

_K_

Marvin loudly sighs and throws his phone onto his floor as he starts to get ready for his shift.

 

\---

 

He tries his best to relax and settle onto the lifeguard stand. It's a typical hot and busy day and tourists are lined up as far as the eye could see, soaking up the sun and probably getting sunburned. It reminds Marvin a lot of the day during the beginning of the month when he saved Whizzer’s life. The day that changed everything. The day that Marvin’s set path of life that he had worked so hard for and sacrificed so much for was skewed.

 

He looks out into the distance of the Atlantic. Okay, yes, his planned path might have been skewed, but it was nowhere near ruined. And he would never allow it to reach that point.

                                                       

He felt no overwhelming tidal call inside of him; instead, it felt like he was floating into calm waters. It might be because one of the tourist’s radios is blasting “Every Little Thing is Gonna Be Alright” by Bob Marley, but he somehow knew – it was all going to be okay.

 

He closes his eyes, and for the first time ever, embraces the warm sun touching his skin.

 

\---

 

“The waves are _sick_ today.”

 

Is the first thing Whizzer says to him after making Marvin wait, sitting on the beach on the annoyingly sticky sand for twenty minutes after his shift ended.

 

“Good for you.” Marvin bites out.

 

Whizzer sits down a calculated few inches next to him. It’s enough for Marvin to be able to _feel_ his presence and _remember_ his body while not exactly being close enough to touch him.

 

They sit in silence for a moment or two, their feet buried in the warm sand as they stare at the tide pulling in and out. The sound of the waves is a lot more perceptible since the majority of the tourists left – making the smart choice to not expose themselves to the heavy, ultra-violet rays that appear during this hour.

 

“So... what’s up?” Whizzer asks as he breaks the silence and looks over at him.

 

Marvin locks eyes with him, clearly taken aback.

 

“Ummm,” Marvin starts. “We left things kind of... well... _weird_ , so...”

 

Whizzer looks away from him and out towards the ocean, biting his lip.

 

“You have a girlfriend.” He says – it’s not phrased as a question or a confirmation. It’s simply a statement of a fact. Which makes Marvin wonder how many guys Whizzer has been with before who _also_ had girlfriends.

 

“Yes.” Marvin answers. He decides he doesn’t want to know the answer to his gratuitous question.

 

“Do you love her?” He looks back over towards Marvin. Again, it’s shockingly clear he’s not accusing him of anything or making him feel guilty, he simply wants to know the answer.

 

“Yes. Well, I mean... no. I mean, not...” He looks away and trails off before he softly finishes. “Like that.”

 

Whizzer just nods, seemingly understanding Marvin’s spew of nonsense. He scoots his half-naked, still fairly wet and salty body closer to him.

 

“Look, Marv... I’m not looking to be your _boyfriend_ or whatever.” Whizzer starts as he lays a hand on Marvin’s back and starts to caress up and down his spine. “You’re allowed to do... _whatever_ you want with your life. ”

 

Marvin waits for the surfer to continue, but he doesn’t. Instead, his hand just continues to rub up and down his spine, each motion reaching lower and lower.

 

“So we’re... okay?” Marvin carefully asks, looking back towards him.

 

Whizzer’s expression is completely unaffected – in fact, his signature smirk paired with his glowing eyes is as compelling as ever. His hand moves up to Marvin’s neck as he starts to deliberately massage the tension out of him.

 

“Of course.” Whizzer responds. “You know,” He says with a leery smile as he stands up and lends out a hand for Marvin to join him. “No one’s home. Let’s go back to my place.”

 

Marvin simply stares at the surfer’s hand. All of this was _crazy_. He has a girlfriend who’s decently kind and whose family is making his wildest dreams come true. He has a... Whizzer who is helping him in all the physical ways that he has craved all of these years and who doesn’t seem to care at all about his complicated relationship. This isn’t normal and god _knows_ this isn’t healthy.

 

The tide's calm waters inside his head start to get a little rougher, so he decides to drown them out as he grabs Whizzer's hand and naturally responds.

 

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you are curious, I tentatively have four more chapters planned after this. I need to write the next few tho before making it Official. Anyway like always, thanks for reading <3


	11. What a Joy's Monogamy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi.

“Come _on_.”

 

Whizzer moans as Marvin lies on top of him, consciously sucking and biting at the surfer’s neck while kissing down the already-forming marks of pink on his skin.

 

“ _Harder._ ” He dramatically yells out.

 

Marvin pulls away and hovers over Whizzer and his wide grin.

 

“Did you just...?”

 

“You think I don’t remember what you said to me when you saved my life?” Whizzer’s smile grows even larger as he leans up to meet Marvin’s lips with his own once again, but Marvin doesn’t allow it, pulling away even further.

 

“I think that’s the first time you’ve admitted that I _saved_ your life.” Marvin says preening and allowing himself to wear a shit-eating grin of his own.

 

Whizzer rolls his eyes and lays his head back onto the pillow underneath him.

 

“ _Saved_ my life might be a bit dramatic.” He says, never allowing Marvin to have any sort of upper hand – whether it is in real life or in the bedroom. “I more than likely would’ve survived on my own.”

 

“Fine,” Marvin responds as matter-of-factly as possible as he rolls off of Whizzer’s body and simply lies down next to him on the mattress, causing the surfer to slightly sulk. “For that... I’m not putting out.”

 

Whizzer slowly sits up to meet Marvin’s gaze and raises his eyebrow. Marvin just stares back intently, refusing to be the one to break despite the tightness in his pants wanting him to persist on.

 

Instead of admitting maybe just _maybe_ Marvin did, in fact, save his life and he is grateful for that, Whizzer refuses to use his words. Instead, he crawls on top of Marvin’s body and smashes their lips together.

 

It’s been about a week since Trina returned home, and Marvin has yet to feel guilty in the slightest about his new hobby. Well, he does feel guilty, but more so guilty about _not_ feeling guilty. It’s complicated.

 

But when he’s with Whizzer it’s never complicated. With Whizzer, it’s passionate foreplay and mind-blowing sex. With Whizzer, Marvin gets to _forget_ about all the complication in his life.

 

\---

 

“Have you ever been to Melonhead?” Whizzer suddenly asks, reaching for his boxers on the floor as Marvin simply lies there still in a post-sex high.

 

“That overpriced healthy place on 36?” He responds sitting up and slowly coming back to his senses. “Uh, no.”

 

“Mendel went yesterday and said they have really good coffee.” Whizzer continues to get dressed, then picks up Marvin’s clothes from the floor and throws them at him. “Let’s go.”

 

Marvin is still in too much of a daze to recognize the implications of this, let alone the fact that Whizzer doesn’t even give him much of an option until he is behind the wheel of his own car and Whizzer is in the passenger seat on their way to the affluent café.

 

“Do you take all your boys out to post-sex coffee?” Marvin asks, trying his best to keep it light while still genuinely curious as to what they’re doing.

 

Whizzer lets out a small laugh. “Only the ones I like.”

 

It’s not a _real_ answer, but it sounds honest enough for Marvin to not feel the need to question any further. He also can’t help but to gratefully hold onto the insinuation that he’s _maybe_ somewhat different than any of the other guys Whizzer has been with.

 

Marvin parks the car and the two of them walk into the healthy café. The inside is exactly how he has pictured it every time he’s passed it – there are at least six TV’s in the place and each one is playing some sort of surfing program, it’s painted nauseatingly bright colors while one of the walls lists _The Benefits of Acai_ , and the two workers behind the counter are without a doubt health freaks who do yoga _at least_ twice a week.

 

“Hey guys, what can I get for you?” The boy with bleach blonde hair and a nose ring enthusiastically asks them, although it’s quite obvious that his attention seems to be dedicated towards Whizzer.

 

“Ummm, I’ll take a medium Americano.” Whizzer answers before noticing the apparent surf competition on the TV overhead. “Oh, is this the US Open from last year?”

 

“Yeah, they’re replaying the highlights, getting ready for next month.” The blonde boy answers and the two of them look up at the screen at some man doing obnoxious tricks on a wave. “Toledo absolutely crushed it last year, I’m hoping he gets at least in the top five this time.”

 

“I wouldn’t doubt him ending up in the top three.” Whizzer responds. “Did you see him at the Billabong Pro? He was one of the strongest ones out there.”

 

As the two of them continue to talk, Marvin just awkwardly stands there stirring in silence with his arms crossed and lips pressed, feeling very out of place – silently hating the fact that he sort of wishes he had some inkling as to what they are talking about.

 

After about a minute or so of Whizzer and his new friend continuing to gush about some surfer and the upcoming competitions, the blonde boy finally asks for Marvin’s order.

 

“I’ll just get a small iced coffee. Black.” He answers while wondering if the sudden distaste in his voice is noticeable.

 

The blonde boy doesn’t seem to notice though, heck, he barely even _looks_ at Marvin. After plugging in their order he looks up towards Whizzer and suddenly says,

 

“Okay, so the Americano is on the house. We do special discounts for cute boys with good taste in surfing.”

 

Whizzer widely smiles. The blonde smirks at Whizzer. Marvin is about to punch both of them in their mouths.

 

Before he can though, the blonde’s animated expression drops as he then turns towards Marvin and grudgingly states,

 

“4.89.”

 

Marvin fishes his wallet out of his pocket while able to feel the heat of red anger appearing on his cheeks. He takes out a five dollar bill, practically slams it on the counter, and says with his best fake smile,

 

“Keep the change.”

 

The blonde gives him a half-assed, fake smile of his own before looking back towards Whizzer and saying,

 

“We’ll have those right out for you.”

 

As soon as the blonde boy and his coworker finish taking their sweet time making the coffees, Marvin gets him and Whizzer out of there as soon as possible with some bullshit excuse of wanting to “enjoy the weather outside.”

The two of them find a picnic table across the street to sit on and sip their coffees in silence for a while. Marvin decides to be the one to finally break the stilted stillness between them,

 

“This coffee is shit.”

 

Whizzer just laughs. “Maybe it’s just your order that’s shit. I mean, _c’mon_ , black coffee?”

 

“It’s definitely the coffee.” Marvin says, albeit still sipping on it. “Plus that guy hated me, I was just getting in his way of trying to fuck you. He probably poisoned it.”

 

Whizzer’s mouth twists as he simply looks down, picking at his coffee lid. For some reason Marvin expected him to laugh along and agree that the coffee boy was being a total perv, for some reason he thought Whizzer would’ve been _glad_ Marvin got them out of there. Yet, for some reason, that doesn’t seem to be the case.

 

“Or...” Marvin apprehensively starts, the caffeine making him maybe too hyper-aware. “Was I getting in the way of _you_ fucking _him_?”

 

“Marvin, no.” Whizzer firmly answers. He looks up again and his eyes are softer than Marvin expected them to be. “But I’m not...”

 

“Your boyfriend.” Marvin finishes. “Yeah, I know.”

 

“Then what’s the issue?” Whizzer asks, this time with a bit more annoyance in his voice.

 

Marvin takes a long sip of the disgusting coffee before deciding to answer truthfully,

 

“I don’t know, I guess... it would just be nice to know that you’re not...” He roughly swallows before finding a way to vocalize his racing thoughts. “Just going to drop me on my head when another cute boy who _likes_ surfing comes around.”

 

Whizzer narrows his eyes and finally laughs. “Is that what this is about?” He takes a long sip of his Americano before continuing. “You know, there’s more to me than _just_ surfing.”

 

Marvin crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows, “Not gonna lie, I find that hard to believe.”

 

Whizzer rolls his eyes while trying to hide a smile. “Okay then... do you want to know a secret?”

 

Marvin leans his arms on the table and answers, “Always.”

 

“Well...” Whizzer responds, biting his lip. “I love photography.”

 

Marvin raises his eyebrows once again with a laugh. “ _That’s_ your secret?”

 

“I’ve honestly never told anyone.” He responds looking down and fiddling with the lid to his coffee. “It’s kind of... embarrassing.”

 

After a moment or so of clear hesitation, Whizzer ultimately takes his phone out of his pocket and opens up a separate album on his camera roll before handing it to Marvin.

 

“Here are the pictures I’ve been taking while we’ve been here.”

 

As Marvin scrolls through the pictures of the beach both at dawn and dusk, of Cordelia and Mendel surfing and smiling, of the bridge that towers over the bay, he can’t help but to admit these are good _..._ actually, these are _really_ good. Before he can say that to Whizzer though, he comes across a picture of a setting that looks awfully familiar. It’s his lifeguard chair... and... is that...

 

“Is that _me_?” Marvin asks, smiling ear-to-ear and showing Whizzer what is clearly a picture of himself on duty on Whizzer’s own phone.

 

Whizzer’s eyes widen as he quickly dives for his phone, but Marvin swiftly jumps up, not allowing the surfer to grab it.

 

“Give me my phone back, _Marvin_.” He screams, the fear in the surfer’s eyes as palpable as the vulnerability in his voice.

 

“I guess you could say,” Marvin starts as he jumps up on the picnic table and holds the phone as high as he can, still not allowing Whizzer to get it back. “I’m your _secret_ muse.”

 

Whizzer jumps up on the picnic table along with him and quickly grabs Marvin’s lower back, pulling their hips together.

 

Marvin loses his breath as Whizzer lowers his head so their lips are less than an inch apart. But before either of them lean in, Whizzer breathes out,

 

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

 

The surfer grabs ahold of his phone and releases Marvin from his grip, causing Marvin to scowl. Before he can yell at him or even question him about the picture, Marvin’s own phone suddenly rings.

 

He steps down off of the picnic table and pulls his phone out of his pocket, trying to hide the immediate grimace that appears on his face when he sees who calling.

 

“Hello?” He carefully answers.

 

“Hey, Marv!” Trina responds as bubbly as ever. “What are you doing?”

 

“Oh just uh,” He looks towards Whizzer whose face is now buried in his phone. “Getting some coffee. What about you?”

 

“Well I was just talking to Charlotte,” She starts. “She wants us to have dinner with her girlfriend and her friends tonight!”

 

Marvin’s heart immediately drops down to his stomach.

 

“Her, um,” He clears his throat “Her friends?”

 

“Yeah?” Trina says in an almost questioning tone that scares him. “She said you’ve met them.”

 

“Oh yeah, no... I have.” He compensates. “That sounds... fun!”

 

“Cool, so pick me up at 6?” Her voice thankfully no longer hosting an ambiguous tone.

 

“Sounds great.” Marvin says, hoping his fake enthusiasm is able to mask the fact that he’s kinda freaking out.

 

“Okay, see you then!” She doesn’t seem to notice, or she’s at least not going to ask. “Love you.”

 

“Love you too.” He bites out.

 

He hangs up the phone as quickly as possible and turns around to see Whizzer’s glowing eyes and signature smirk staring right back at him.

 

“Date night?” He asks, his tone as annoyingly sarcastic as ever.

 

“Yeah!” Marvin answers, continuing to feign his enthusiasm. “And you’re coming.”

 

\---

 

“Fucking Cordelia.” Whizzer says on the drive back to the vacation rental after Marvin explains to him what’s happening.

 

“Fucking _Charlotte_.” Marvin says back and after a beat decides to ask. “Did you tell Cordelia, about, you know... us?”

 

Whizzer stares out of the car window and it reminds Marvin a lot of the first time he gave Whizzer a ride home to Apartment F. It’s crazy what has changed in such little time.

 

“I didn’t really have to.” He simply replies.

 

“Do you think she told Charlotte?” Marvin asks, his hands gripping harder onto the steering wheel.

 

“I don’t know.” Whizzer responds with a sigh. “If I had to guess... no. I don’t think she would ever out anyone like that.”

 

Marvin roughly swallows, he wasn’t even thinking about the fact that this situation he has gotten himself into is a double-ended sword. On one hand, he’s cheating on his girlfriend of three years – on the other hand, he’s cheating on his girlfriend of three years with a _guy_. A guy who will be eating dinner with him and his girlfriend of three years tonight. Needless to say, this should be an interesting evening.

 

They pull up in front of the small gray vacation rental and Marvin parks his car. The two of them sit there is silence for a minute, the barrier of the car once again blocking them from reality. At least for a little while.

 

“Well,” Whizzer says, biting the bullet and opening the passenger door. “I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

 

Without thinking, Marvin grabs ahold of the surfer’s hand.

 

“They’re good.” He says softly to a confused Whizzer. “Your photos.” Marvin clarifies. “ _You’re_ good.”

 

The taken aback look on Whizzer’s face vanishes and is replaced with a genuine smile and appreciative eyes.

 

Like always though, Whizzer can’t use his words, so he simply squeezes Marvin’s hand back before walking inside.

 

And it’s not a _real_ answer, but it’s enough.

 

 

\---

 

Marvin pulls up to Trina’s home at a calculated time of 5:58 pm. One time he arrived at her house right on the exact minute for a date and the whole night she hinted about how arriving early is _actually_ the right, _polite_ thing to do.

 

 _Wow, the waiter got these rolls to us before I expected. That’s always such a_ good _feeling._

Marvin shivers at the memory and tilts his head back onto his seat at the thought of how someone like Trina and someone like Whizzer are going to be sharing a table tonight.

Trina walks out of the front door in a pale pink sundress and a huge but obviously nervous smile on her face.

 

Marvin can’t help but hate the fact that she looks beautiful. Yet in a weird, fucked up way the idea of making Whizzer feel somewhat how he felt today in the coffee shop makes him notably giddy.

 

They make their way to Moby’s through Trina’s continued nervousness about meeting new people and making a good impression while Marvin does his best to calm her nerves about meeting the boy he has been fucking behind her back.

 

They park and walk up to the docks lined with picnic tables hand in hand and immediately spot Charlotte and the rest of them. Trina squeezes his hand, which he instantly returns, his own nerves catching up with him when seeing Whizzer sipping another frozen drink with an umbrella in it.

 

“Trina!” Charlotte exclaims as they walk up to their table as she wraps her in a big hug. “This is Cordelia.” She introduces her, the admiration in just the way she says her name palpable.

 

“Nice to finally meet you!” Trina says, clearly at ease solely by the warmth of Cordelia’s smile and presence.

 

“Same,” Cordelia responds. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

 

Marvin can’t help but flinch at a comment like that, especially coming from her.

 

“These are my friends, Mendel and Whizzer.” She references to them and shoots Whizzer some sort of look, resulting in him painting on an obnoxiously fake smile.

 

He stands up from the picnic table, which makes Marvin grit his teeth, noticing he’s a bit less than sober.

 

“ _So_ nice to meet you.” He says shaking her hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you too.”

 

Marvin tries to shoot him a wary look of warning, but he refuses to meet his eye contact.

 

“Really?” Trina asks through a stilted laugh.

 

“We’re protective of Cordelia,” Mendel says interrupting, standing up and shaking Trina’s hand. “We like to know everyone.”

 

Marvin notices Mendel’s cheeks go pink as he widely smiles when they meet each other’s eyes. He doesn’t think much of it, though, as he continues to try to catch Whizzer’s eyes to figure out what is going on inside his head.

 

“Let’s sit!” Trina says, grabbing ahold of Marvin’s hand and sitting them next to Mendel, across from Whizzer, Charlotte, and Cordelia.

 

Even when sitting across from him Whizzer refuses to look at him. Which, in retrospect is probably a good thing. Ignoring each other is better than acknowledgement and letting on any more suspicion than everyone already probably has.

 

Shockingly, the six of them fall into conversation so easily – almost as if they’ve known each other forever. They do have all the drama and secrets a friend group probably already has, so it does make sense.

 

“What about you Whizzer?” Trina suddenly asks, her saying _his_ name obviously pulls Marvin out of his thoughts.

 

“Oh, god no.” Whizzer short-handedly responds. “My parents split up when I was five, teaching me that monogamy isn’t a realistic expectation.”

 

Marvin scoffs and the whole table directs their attention towards him,

 

“I disagree.”

 

Whizzer finally looks at him after avoiding him all night up to this point, unable to resist a disagreement.

 

“Really?” He asks raising his eyebrow.

 

“Yeah,” Marvin says in a noticeably pissed tone. “I think monogamy is realistic, it just takes _actual_ effort.”

 

The whole abrasive exchange makes everyone go completely silent – Marvin can’t even hear Trina _breathing_ next to him. He pries his eyes off of Whizzer and turns towards the others who all have mortified and confused looks painted on their faces.

                                      

“Well.” Whizzer starts, being the only one who doesn’t look mortified, in fact, he’s smiling – _wide._ “I’m sure _Trina_ is happy to hear that.”

 

Marvin’s face drops as he hesitatingly looks towards Trina. She is wearing a forced smile and squeezes his knee roughly.

 

“It does.” She breathes out. “Guys like Marvin can be hard to find.”

 

“Now that’s,” Whizzer starts pointing towards the two of them before he takes a sip of his obnoxious drink. Cordelia is staring at him with a silent fury in her eyes that it sort of scares Marvin. He side-eyes her and puts his drink down before finishing his uncalled-for statement. “Truth.”

 

Marvin sighs in relief and grabs ahold of Trina’s hand on his knee, holding it tightly. He refuses to look at Whizzer again for the rest of the night and tries his best to enjoy the rest of the dinner. This whole night was _supposed_ to be for Charlotte, and here Marvin and Whizzer are making it another fucking power play.

 

The rest of the night goes well and smoothly, as they all continue to talk and laugh and enjoy each other’s company while Marvin and Whizzer don’t acknowledge each other.

 

That is until Whizzer announces as his foot lightly but purposely touches Marvin’s inner calf.

 

“I’m gonna go use the restroom.”

 

Marvin just stares at the surfer, fully aware of what he is implying and genuinely curious if Whizzer really thinks Marvin is _that_ weak.

 

Albeit, he watches him stand up and walk away, and just the way the surfer’s thin torso and tight ass sway ever so slightly makes Marvin suddenly announce,

 

“I’m gonna go too.”

 

He quickly stands up, ignoring the burning looks he is getting from Cordelia and walks towards the shouting of the risky tide that is pulling him in completely against his will.

 

Luckily, Moby’s has singular family bathrooms where Whizzer is intently leaning on the door of.

 

He smirks as Marvin turns the corner, and without any type of hesitation whatsoever, balls up his shirt and pulls Marvin’s lips towards his own.

 

“Took you long enough.”

 

He smashes their lips together and pulls him into the small, borderline grotesque public bathroom, pinning him up against the door as soon as it closes, turning the lock, and pushing his leg in between Marvin’s thighs.

 

Marvin haltingly groans, immediately catching himself realizing they’re in a public place.

 

Whizzer unbuckles Marvin’s belt and unbuttons his pants in one swift motion, he kisses Marvin one last time before whispering in his ear,

 

“You know you’re a hypocrite?”

 

“What?” Marvin says still leaning on the door as Whizzer’s hands continue to go lower and lower.

 

“All that stuff about monogamy.” Whizzer clarifies, making Marvin quickly lose any type of interest. “Yet, here you are, getting off with me while your girlfriend is literally outside.”

 

Marvin completely deadlocks and harshly pushes him off his body, staring down a perplexed Whizzer with absolutely no amusement whatsoever.

 

“You’re a fucking asshole.” He responds, pulling up his pants and rebuckling them. “If you want to prove how much you hate monogamy why don’t you go fuck that coffee boy.”

 

“Marvin, are you fucking serious?” Whizzer asks, his cheeks still pink which Marvin does his best to avoid focusing on. “You have a girlfriend, but, here we are. Are you really gonna deny that monogamy isn’t real?”

 

“I could be monogamous with you!” He shouts without even thinking.

 

Whizzer’s shoulders drop and his lips tighten and his apathetic expression makes Marvin immediately regret following this tide’s calling – forgetting that the tide ultimately leaves him alone and vulnerable and fending for himself.

 

“I – I didn’t mean that.” He quickly tries to assure him. “I should –”

 

He doesn’t even finish his sentence as he unlocks and opens the door leading him back out to reality, hoping that his girlfriend and his best friend’s girlfriend’s friends won’t be able to notice that he almost allowed himself to be weak enough to go and fuck some ignorant surfer in the public bathrooms.

 

“Are you okay?” Trina asks as soon as he sits down.

 

“Yeah, Marvin.” Cordelia repeatedly deadpans. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine.” He simply replies, avoiding eye contact with Cordelia. “Just feeling kind of nauseous.”

 

Trina being the classic, caretaking girl she is immediately suggests going home and Marvin can’t be more thankful. They say their goodbyes and nice-to-meet-you’s and as they’re leaving Trina, being the classic, caretaking girl says,

 

“Tell Whizzer we said bye!”

 

“We will.” Mendel says with a sympathetic ring in his voice. That’s the first time he has seemingly had any reaction to this situation at all.

 

They drive home in mostly silence and as they pull into her driveway she kisses his cheek and says,

 

“Feel better, Hun. I had a lot of fun tonight.”

 

“Me too.” Marvin lies.

 

“I’ll call you tonight.” She says, stepping out of the car and before closing the door says, “I love you.”

 

“I love you too.” He responds.

 

He pulls out of her driveway and drives home, feeling so incredibly numb. He hates the fact that his eyes are burning and his hands are sweating and he’s just _upset_. He’s upset that he probably ruined the one thing in his life that gave him any indication of _feeling_ by admitting those feelings.

 

As he pulls up to his house, he sees a familiar car outside in the road.

 

 _Oh god._ He thinks to himself. _Please no._

He parks his car and walks up to the small black car’s passenger side window that is purposefully open.

 

“Are you stalking me?” Marvin asks, leaning down.

 

Whizzer just stiffly laughs, still not looking at him.

 

Marvin opens the door and sits in the passenger seat without invitation.

 

After a moment or so of them sitting in silence, Whizzer sighs.

 

“Look.” He says, still refusing to look at directly at him. “I – ”

 

He cuts himself off, some reason not wanting to finish his sentence.

 

Marvin grasps Whizzer’s cheek and moves his head towards him, forcing the surfer to look at him. His eyes are soft and almost watery and it feels like Marvin just cracked the mirror that he is constantly holding up. Marvin’s mouth falls agape at this unexpected image and he immediately leans in and meets his lips with Whizzer’s. The kiss is soft and genuine and for the first time doesn’t have an underlying indication of immediately wanting to rip each other’s pants off.

 

Whizzer breaks the kiss as he places his hand over Marvin’s own on his cheek.

 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally says, finishing his sentence.

 

Marvin hastily backs his head away in shock.

 

“Whizzer.” He softly says, sounding more like a plea than he intended.

 

Whizzer looks from his eyes down to his lips and is the one to break the distance this time, this kiss filled with much more teeth and heat.

 

“We can’t.” Whizzer says suddenly with a laugh, pulling away once again. “Cordelia will already be pissed enough since I stole her car, if I have sex in it my dead body will be discovered on the beach tomorrow morning.”

 

Marvin laughs, still desperately holding onto the surfer’s body.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Whizzer says, kissing him slowly once again.

 

“Tomorrow.” Marvin repeats after the kiss, hesitantly opening his eyes and letting him go.

 

He steps out of the car and waves goodbye as Whizzer drives away, ignoring the feeling of utter pain in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Little disclaimer - Sea Bright is indeed a real town on the utmost part of the Jersey Shoreline and the reason I started writing this is because I spent a month in the town next to it this summer. Just know that the name of things or the geography isn't supposed to be accurate, I didn't spend much time in this specific town and the only reason I chose the name was because I started writing this in a coffee shop in Sea Bright while I was there for a day. Anyway, thanks for reading! As always, feedback is always appreciated and keeps me motivated :)


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